


Under Covers

by bakerstreetchick22



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Armitage Hux is a Jerk, Dominant Kylo Ren, Drinking, Explicit Language, F/M, Gambling, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Is In The Mafia, M/M, Poe is a detective, Prostitution, Rey's POV, Reylo - Freeform, Rose Tico - Freeform, Rough Sex, Sex, Smoking, Solo is police chief, gangster au, kylo is a sexy shit, kylo ren smut, maz kanata - Freeform, or he catch her hands, rey is fab, rey is undercover, reylo smut, reylo trash, set in 1920's New Orleans, she catch the man, slow burn?, snoke is the don, there will be smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-02-15 21:59:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13040280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakerstreetchick22/pseuds/bakerstreetchick22
Summary: In this 1920's AU there is trouble afoot as the French Quater Cartel (the first order) is trying to overtake the entire city of New Orleans. "Killer Red" (Kylo) is a cold harden hit man for the Cartel and René (rey) has to go undercover as a prostitute to get close to him- But how close is close? Killer Red is much more attractive than she ever expected.





	1. The French Quarter Cartel

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!!! So this is my 1920's AU. I took the liberty to change peoples names to make it feel more authentic to the setting. I tried to keep all the changes close to the originals but to make sure everything is clear here is the quick rundown. 
> 
> Kylo Ren/Ben Solo = Ben "Killer Red" Solo  
> Rey = René  
> Snoke = Mr. S  
> Skywalker = Sinclaire  
> First Oder = French Quater Cartel 
> 
> I think everything else is the same! enjoyyyyyy

The rickety ceiling fan beat rhythmically in the stuffed hot room. It was summer, and the sweat was pouring off our collective brows. There was at least fifty some odd officers crammed with me in the back office of the police station. I was the only woman in the room, being Chief Solo’s secretary and transcriptionist did have its advantages. There wasn’t a single official meeting that transpired between these two walls that I wasn’t privileged to- After all, the official records didn’t write themselves. 

“Wonder what he’s going to be on about.” Whispered Detective Dameron beside me, rubbing out his cigarette on the floor. 

“Probably some new break in that murder case.” I answered, “He’s had the boys in homicide working night and day on that one.”

Dameron tilted back his hat. “If you ask me- catching one murderer isn’t going to turn the tide in this city.” 

“We still got try to maintain order.” I countered.

“Order? It is a goddamn mess out there and you know it. Solving some “sensational” murder isn’t going to solve anything. Nothing is going to change until we bust the French Quarter Cartel.” Irritated and stressed he glanced down at his watch. “Where is he? Been waiting here forever.”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, “The Chief did request a lot of maps of the city to be brought up to his office last night. Maybe he’s still getting it togeth- “

My voice trailed off as Chief Solo burst into the room without warning. From the Chief’s hunched posture and red-eyes, I could tell he pulled an all-nighter. I knew instantly that this wasn’t about the murder. Groaning he settled himself behind the podium. Under his arm, he was carrying several rolled up maps and a wooden pointer. All eyes were on him as he pushed up his sleeves and lighted a cigarette. I pulled out my legal pad ready to write, but the chief didn’t say anything for a long while, instead, he just stood there, laboriously sighing out puffs of smoke. An uneasy hush settled over the crowd in the prolonged silence. This must be one hell of an announcement.

“Alright everyone,” The chief finally sighed, leaning forward on the podium. “I bet ya’ll wondering why I called you in here.” He exhaled another thick cloud of smoke, as his eyes shifted the crowd of officers. “Last night I received a letter from the French Quarter Cartel.” 

The crowd stirred. 

“It said on no uncertain terms that they mean to move, and that we should shut up and sit down if we knew what was good for us. But since when have we known what good for us?” He chuckled, before giving a long hard stare into the crowd. “This isn’t going to be easy boys. They said they will target any officer who gets in the way. I will understand if some of you want to be transferred, but now is the time to say it.”

A couple of seconds passed, but no one raised their hands. There were only hardened expressions in the room. 

“Alright then-“ The chief began again, “None of you heroes better get any ideas about stomping out of this room and doing something about this by yourself. If we’re to be effective, we gotta to do this together. We need to be as organized and numerous as they are- on the streets, in the bars, in the alleys.” Pausing he turned to the board at the back of the room and clipped up the maps. With the smack of his wooden pointer, he directed our attention towards the edge of the French Quarter. “We already had some intel before I received this letter that the Cartel was looking to expand their turf by taking over the Saenger Theater area; however, it looks like that little chunk of land won’t be the end, just the beginning. This isn’t going to just another gang fight, this is going to be a complete take over of not only the other gangs but of the police force too.” 

The room erupted in defiant jeers. 

“What are they gonna do!” Someone scoffed, “Blow up the station?”

“Frankly, it is not out the question.” Chief Solo admitted, rubbing his forehead. 

“Why are they moving now Chief?” Dameron asked, folding his arms. 

“As everyone here knows, Mr. ‘S’ has been running the French Quarter Cartel for quite some time now without a clear heir or a real number two...” The Chief rocked his weight back and forth on the podium. “As of now, we believe that Mr. ‘S’ has found his number two. We don’t know who it is, but they are aggressive -aggressive enough that the Cartel is rolling out this plan.” Chief Solo stopped midsentence, running his hands down the side of the podium, his head downturned. “We don’t know who this new number two is but they are certainly a hardened killer. Don’t give them the chance to shoot. Kill on site. All of ya’ll will get the complete details of exactly what we know within the hour. Now get out of here and back to work. We have a war to win.” He raised his hand in dismissal. 

Everyone was buzzing with conversation as they filed out of the room. As I too made for the door, Dameron caught me by the arm. 

“René do you wanna eat lunch at my desk today.” He asked.

“Well, Poe. I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” I replied with a smile in my eyes. 

“What! No, I-“ He caught himself, somewhat embarrassed at his strong reaction. “I’m sorry kid I don’t mean to be rude it’s just not like that see,” He looked around before whispering into my ear, “See, there is something I wanna send by you, and if you’re not interested you’re not interested and I won’t ever bring up again. But it is important to all of this.” His eyes wandered over to the map on the wall. 

“Color me intrigued,” I said nudging his shoulder. “Let me get my stuff and I’ll be there in a flash.” 

*********

I scooted into Dameron’s desk, a sandwich on my lap and an eager look on my face. “So what’s the biz- Deal me in!”

Dameron did a quick glance around at the other desks around him, before leaning in. “I think I gotta a lead on Mr. ‘S’ number one.” 

The confession left me speechless. Absently mindedly I continued to chew on my sandwich. 

“I have a source in the Blue Room who says that there is a man who comes in nearly every night and goes to one of the private rooms. There he keeps company with some of Mr. S white-suited goons, including that Hux guy whose head of the Cartel’s bootleg operation.”

“What makes you so sure it’s him?” I asked, my eyes wide. 

“My source said that he overheard the man giving orders to Hux, and no one except Mr. S gives orders to Hux.” 

I nodded my head in agreement, Hux was as sneaky as he was haughty. He even owned several restaurants that were not only dens of drinking and gambling but were practically open about it. If it hadn’t had been for Hux’s wealth and his connection with the Cartel, he would have been behind bars long ago. 

“Why haven’t you told the chief?” I wondered.

“My source is in a very delicate position. I wouldn’t want him to go on the record or testify, or even come into the office lest he is seen.” Dameron replied, in a hushed tone. 

“Can you trust his info?”

“With my life.” He replied without hesitation. 

“How do I fit into all of this?”

“See I got a plan, or rather we got a plan- my source and me- that might just give us an in on their whole operation.” He paused in thought before murmuring. “We want you to get acquainted with Mr. ‘S’s number one man.”

I nearly choked on my food. “What?”

“Now I know this is a rather indecent proposal to ask a nice young lady like yourself to do, but- you heard the chief. If we don’t do something, every honest officer in here is either going to be packing their bags or being packed in one.“

I sat for a moment in thought, but then a groundswell of determination rose in me. “I’ll do it. If you think it can help in some way- If you think I can- I will. What do I need to do to get in?“

“See the Blue Room keeps a lot of ‘entertainers’ in the establishment. They send them around to the private rooms, and on occasion, our man of interest keeps their company.”

“I’m not very worldly,” I said shyly. “I don’t know if I can pull it off.”

“Don’t worry René!” He laughed, “You got more class then ninety percent of the women out there. It’ll show. If we can just get someone in there- who is next to him- we can get on edge. I know you can do it.”

“Before you send me out there, what does he look like?”

He tentatively took a drink of water. “Truth is I really don’t know. He wears his hat down, and he dresses in all black. He has dark tinted glasses too. The only thing I can say for sure is that he’s tall, and he goes by the name ‘Killer Red.’”

“Peachy.” I commented sarcastically, “How did the name stick?”

“Because,” He said with a slight apprehension in his voice, “The last thing his victims see is the barrel of his ruby encrusted gun.”


	2. New World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! Thank-you for all your lovely comments! They really very encouraging and push me to write more! This chapter has some more characters than last time. I trust you will recognize them. :)

The sweet buzz of jazz poured out from the back windows of Blue Room. I stood, wrapped in my beaded shawl, waiting out on the side street. The blinking neon lights of the nearby clubs illuminated the street with colors. A rush of nervousness filled my chest as I thought of what I was about to do, and despite the heavy summer heat, it gave me goose-bumps. 

I had tried my best to look the part of the ‘entertainment’ but I still felt impossibly drab. I wasn’t one for makeup or short skirts, even though they were the rage. I was always sensible, respectable, even a little bit boyish. Being a ‘modern’ and liberated woman, with all the allure that came with it, always had seemed like an impossible challenge. It was enough that I had made it in the world- that had become someone better than I was. Standing outside in the night air in a next to nothing dress made me feel like a different person. Even still, I was sure I would stick out like a sore thumb underneath the crystal chandeliers. Imagine, a no-name child of alcoholic drifters trying to pose as a high price seductress. It was laughable- but dear god did I hope it would work.

Exactly at midnight, just according to plan, I opened the backdoor stealthily. Looking both ways, I stepped through the doorway. The first thing that hit me was the smell of cigarettes, illegal alcohol, and French food. As my eyes adjusted to the hazy light of the stockroom, I saw Dameron deeply involved in a conversation with a Creole man in an expensive white suit. They were both talking enthusiastically in French, and from their body language, I could tell they were quite familiar with each other. A gentle touch- a glimmer in his eyes- I never knew Dameron to be so soft and expressive. 

Dameron sensing my eyes upon him glanced up. “This is the girl.” He said, gesturing for me to come over.

The man in the white suit looked me up and down critically as I walked towards them. My nervousness and embarrassment grew tenfold. I had known I wasn’t enough of a lady to pull it off. 

The man put his hand to his mouth in thought. 

“Enchanting,” He suddenly exclaimed in a deep British accent. “You certainly are a treat!” 

I breathed a sigh of relief. 

He nudged Dameron, “I didn’t know you worked with such a doll- Should I be jealous?” He said in a teasing tone. 

Dameron flushed bright red and coughed. “If you couldn’t tell this is the informant I spoke of, Fionn.” 

Fionn reached out and shook my hand cordially, his smile beaming. 

“He’s the maître d' here- and a damn fine man.” Dameron continued, placing his hand on Fionn shoulder. “He used to hustle with boys in the Cartel- now he hustles for us.”

I raised my eyebrow. “So you’re like a double agent now are you?”

Fionn flashed a smirk. “Supposed you could say I am playing on both sides.” 

He and Dameron cast a sneaking glance at each other.

Dameron glanced down at his watch. “Egad- I’m sorry but I have to scram now. The chief wants me to finish that report tonight. I trust you’re in good hands now René.” 

“Surely,” I answered, grinning shyly at Fionn. 

“See you around old sport.” Fionn chimed, as Dameron walked towards the door. 

“Count on it,” Dameron responded, giving a two-fingered salute as he left. 

As soon as the door closed Fionn turned back to me. 

“Dameron and I are lovers.” He said without missing a beat. “If it distresses you, I would like you to say it now.”

“No- no it doesn’t at all,” I replied promptly. 

“Peachy!” Fionn beamed, “I didn’t think you looked like the type- but I like to be open- especially with someone who I am going to need to trust my life with.” His expression turned deathly serious for a moment. “I don’t mean to scare you but it is important to understand that this is very risky what I’m doing. If you are caught and you tell them who let you into the club. I will certainly be at the bottom of a swamp before you could blink.” 

“I understand,” I responded nodding. “If it is so dangerous why did you decided to turncoats?”

“For him.” He answered tenderly. The jazz music pulsed in the air, and for a moment I longed for what he and Dameron had. Like a flickering flame igniting inside me, I burned with a need to love as they loved each other. 

“Are you sure that I’m enough?” I asked, “Enough to capture his attention?”

“It’s not capturing his attention that I’m worried about- it is keeping it,” Fionn warned, gesturing with his finger. “But you're a bright girl- I’m sure you will do fine. You only need to get information- nothing else. Enough chatter.” He announced his cheer returning to him. “Time for you to get going. The sooner you meet the Madame the better.” 

He took me by the arm and walked me out of the stock room and through the kitchen. It was bustling with smells and steam. The quick chatter of French and other more exotic tongues flew between the chefs. Rounding past the heaps of pans we came to a staircase that led to the upstairs rooms. Quickly we made it up the stairs and arrived at a hallway. Fionn strode over to a large red carved Chinese door at the end of the hall. In a distinctive pattern, like Morris code, he knocked on the door. A panel slid open in the top of the door and a set of dark, lashy eyes peered out us. 

“Who’s that?” Spoke the eyes in a seductive strange accent. 

“A new girl, Madame.” Fionn replied

“New girl?” Said the Madame skeptically, while examining at me. “I didn’t hear anything about a new girl?” 

“She’s a friend of my sister. Needs to make money quick.” Fionn arched his eyebrow. “She’s got a heap of class.” 

“Perhaps too much class.” The eyes narrowed. A painfully long pause transpired before I heard a long sigh coming from the other side of the door. “Be thankful I like you Fionn.” The eyes muttered. With that, the slat slid shut and the door unlocked. 

Fionn leaned into me, “You are on your own now kid- good luck and remember Killer’s room is number 12.” 

I smiled nervously. He gave me an assuring pat on the shoulder, before turning back down the stairs. With a deep breath, I palmed the crystal doorknob. With a soft click, the door swung open, revealing a sumptuous boudoir. The walls were adorned with golden swirling sconces and they were papered in red silk. The room was populated with a rich black lacquered furniture set consisting of several chaises, a vanity simply covered with cosmetics and flowers, and a canopy bed. Every surface was dripping with tassels and cherub wings. It was one of the most expensive rooms I had ever stepped foot in. I suppose crime does pay sometimes. 

“Come sit.” Said the Madame startling me from my gawking. 

I was surprised to see how short she was, no taller than around four feet. She was surprisingly old as well, but I couldn’t tell how old. She could have been forty or seventy. There was something ageless and catlike about her expression as she gestured for me to sit down across from her on the chaise. 

“Now- you want to work for me?” She said in a matter of fact tone while coming closer to inspect me. “Why would you want to do that?”

“I need the money.” I lied.

“Money?” She cried. “You don’t work for Madame Maz for money. You work for Madame Maz for a lifestyle. This is not a one-time fix! “She pointed her long cigarette holder in my face. “To be one of my girls you must want to seduce for a living. After all isn’t that what it means to be a woman?”

I blinked. “Yes- I fancy it is.”  
She groaned dismissively. “I can tell by looking at you don’t know the first thing about men.” 

I looked at the floor. It seemed like this plan wasn’t going to fail before it even got off the ground. 

“But you know,” She said taking my face in her hands, her eyes level to mine, “Innocence can be an irresistible virtue. There’s nothing more appealing to men than the thought of destroying a woman’s virtue. Men are foolish, but not foolish enough to not know the difference between a whore and a babe. There are too many whores in my employ and not enough babes. Tch.” She scoffed with disdain. 

After taking another long look, she nodded. “You will do.” 

I smiled in exaltation at passing her standards. 

“Now-” she said walking over to her vanity and powdering her face with a gigantic puff. “First things first- what’s your name?”

“René,” I answered.

“No- no- child.” She chided. “What is your name? What do want to be known by?”

I looked around the room, and my eye caught the sight of a silk panel depicting a golden sunrise. 

“Ray.” I said, “Like the sun.”

“Fine- fine- at least some more zip the René- bleh- on every other street corner there is a René.” She muttered as she put on some dark lipstick. “Now to get you out of those things you call clothes.”

Madame Maz rose and walked over to a trunk on the floor. After some digging, she fished out a long silver shift dress. The material was so thin it might as well have been a negligée. 

“Dress.” She commanded. 

Shyly I removed my shawl, and then my dress. I could feel her watching me out of the corner of her eye, judging my form. The dress came on in one slip. If I felt like a different person before- I felt like I was in a completely different reality now. The faint perfume coming off of the dress tingled my nose with sweetness. Strangely, I had never felt more alive. 

“Make sure you keep that doe-eyed look for your clients. They will pay much more if they feel like they are the first to pluck the rose off of your cheek.” She said with a flourish of her hand. “Speaking of clients- if you ever wonder which rooms to enter, there will be a little red flower on the doors currently being entertained- make sure not to disturb them.”

I nodded obediently.

“Additionally Ray- half of what you make goes to the House- the rest you keep- but if I find that you are sneaking more than your share there will be consequences.” She turned to look at me with her keen intelligent eyes. “Now, go and make your presence known.”

“Yes, Madame Maz.” Trying to take deep breathes I left the room and went out in the hallway. I carefully looked at the room numbers go by. I saw a couple doors without flowers on them and thought briefly about going to one of them first, in order to 'practice,' before going to room twelve. But the anxiety and the curiosity was killing me. I needed to see who this “Killer Red” was. Finally, near the end of the hall, I spotted room twelve. It was without a flower. I put my hand on the door. A surge of apprehension suddenly filled me. I lacked the strength to open the door for a moment, but it was only brief moment. Before I knew it, I was opening the door and walking into a new world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that I did not offend anyone by describing Fin as Creole- I didn't want to use any historical vernacular that denotes blackness- as they're undeniably racist- and thought this was a better alternative. Additionally, I also wanted to signal his more European origins (hence his accent). I live in a state adjacent to Louisiana and Creole to my knowledge is not a slur? or at least I haven't heard as a slur? 
> 
> I would be interested to hear your comments about this as it something I truly waffled about. 
> 
> Thank-you for reading!!!


	3. Killer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY LORD! 
> 
> YOU GUYS- I have never had a response like this to a fic and it is literally the most heartwarming and inspiring thing. Thank-you for all your comments and encouragement- you are all lovely and I want to thank-you for reading!!!!!!
> 
> Now- this chapter got some hanky-panky in it *winks with both eyes* I hope it is good and not a heaping pile of cheese~ 
> 
> listening music suggestion: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UYcqtBrpzM0
> 
> ENJOY

The door shut behind me, and I found myself in a sitting room with seven of the Cartel’s white-suited men. They were position all around the room with strategic views of the door. Some of them were half risen up from their chair, their hands in their suit pockets in anticipation. Cold and ready to strike, with slicked-back hair and eyes like piranhas, they watched me. 

Tentatively, I walked further into the room, my skirt making a soft sound as it brushed along against the floor. I saw a folding panel door that led to what assumed was the bedroom. Unsure of whether I should just go ahead and enter unannounced my feet stalled.

“May I?” I asked the room while pointing at the doors. 

“One usually expects company here.” Sneered a distinctively feminine voice. 

I turned in surprise. I tried not to gasp in my realization that the tallest and most largely built of the men in the room, was, in fact, a woman. She was in a white suit like the others, but instead of a black bow tie, she donned a silver one. Looking at her I noticed her finer features and pinky toned lips. A soft styled curl of blonde hair laid pressed against her skin near her temple. It was sublet but undeniable that she did have a certain fierce beauty. 

“So it is okay to go in?” I asked again, wanting to be absolutely sure I was wanted. 

“Naturally.” She curtly replied. 

I swallowed my concerns, remembering the countless lives that could be saved by succeeding in my goal, and went over and slid open the door. As I shut it with my back I heard her muffled voice. 

“Child.” She scoffed.

I bit my lip in pain, as she had said it with such disdain. A few moments of silence passed as my head spun. I was glued there by the door for seconds- minutes- hours- pressing my sweaty palm against my lips. What a dire mess had I gotten myself into? 

Rotating my eyes slowly, to my relief and dismay, I saw no one apparently in the darkened room with me. The only movement I saw was that of the flashing streets lights coming through the partially closed balcony doors.

Cautiously, I looked around the inner room. Interestingly enough, it was not what I had expected at all. Instead of a bedroom, it was more of a lounge, filled with low furniture and Turkish ottomans. It was not as lavish as Madame Maz’s room, but it was hardly plain. There was a certain elegance to its red and black interior and mirrored end tables.

Perhaps, there was another room off the balcony? I wondered, walking towards the shutter doors. As I ran my fingers up the slats of the wood, I could see pieces of the street below, but nothing else. This would be a good place to escape the room if it came to that. My gaze drifted to the buildings across the street. There was a matching balcony level to this one… a good place to get a clean shot of this room. It was a dreadful thought, but Chief Solo did order that this man, if he was indeed the man, was to be shot on site if possible. 

I jumped out of my skin at the sound of a lighter being ignited behind me. Startled, I spun around, and then I saw him, in the far corner of the room, hidden a wingbacked chair. I could not see his features, as his hands were cupped over his face as he lighted his cigar, but from the length of his legs, I could tell he was indeed a tall, powerfully built man. 

“What’s a matter? “Sounded his deep voice, “Never seen a gangster before?” 

He admitted it without hesitation- as simply as if he was commenting on the weather. I didn’t know whether he was just that insane or just that powerful. He leaned forward in his chair, and even though I couldn't properly see his face in the darkness of the room, I could feel his eyes boring into me. 

“Come over here.” He commanded, with a flick of his cigar. 

I could feel my heart racing my chest as I approached him. As his features came into to view, I wanted to die. He was so unfortunately, and so horribly handsome. He clenched his jaw pensively as he looked at me. Meditatively he ran his hand through the dark swoop of hair that graced his head. 

“Turn around for me.” He ordered, and I did so, my dress floating around me. 

He flicked his lighter open and closed, his gaze never straying from me. His hardened anatomy radiated an understated and passionate sense of rage, while his eyes undressed me in the most fervent way. No man had ever looked at me like that before, like he could see into the very center being. I shivered. 

I kneeled down before his chair, like women do when they want to please. As my gaze moved downward past his dark suit and tie, a blush grew red hot in my cheeks. I knew what would surely come next. Underneath those trousers… my thoughts became a blur.

“You’re afraid.” He said, almost in an amused tone. 

“I- “My voice caught in my throat as I tried to answer. 

Laughing in his low voice, he put his hands around my waist and lifted me up into his lap as easily as if I was a china doll. Arms resting on my hips, he brought me into his embrace and kissed me.

“Now…” He hummed, “That didn’t hurt did it?” 

I shook my head. Slowly, making circles on my back with his fingers, he snuck his hands around to my breasts. I let out a small gasp, which he seemed to relish. 

“What is a dove like you doing here?” He murmured while peppering the crook of my neck with kisses. “Did father dearest cut off your allowance?” I could feel his lips forming a smirk on my skin. 

“How- how did you know?” I said, playing along, with his fantasy. 

It seemed to egg him on even more, as he proceeded to devour my collarbone. 

“Rebellious,” He growled, his eyes closed with lust. “You should know better than to ask strange men for money.” 

“What am I to do?” I said in a pleading tone. “How’s a girl to go on wi-” My breath sucked inwards as his mouth met my nipple through my dress. In kissing motions, he lips teased me, as his hands worked my legs to straddle him. 

Suddenly desperate, he hiked up my dress and brought it over my shoulders, leaving me naked before him. His breath beat heavy down upon my skin. His gruesome good looks seemed haunted, wound up like a steel trap, as he devoured me. A haze grew in my head.

Then, I heard the sound of a zipper undoing. A desperate fear bubbled in my stomach. I wanted to run away but I knew I couldn’t- that I shouldn’t- I had come too far. I needed to do my job for my friends, for myself, I needed to be strong. I looked down into his fiery eyes as he slipped into me. 

I held onto him, and then onto the chair for dear life, while I cried out. A stream of profanity poured out of his mouth as he thrusted relentlessly. It was nothing like anything I had had before. I was shaking- sweating- rocking. His hands were on hips- in my mouth. Before I knew it my hands were all over him too- running through his long hair. Without warning, a warmth gathered in my stomach and my legs began to quake around him. Moaning, he wrapped his arms around me and held me down in his lap as he continued to drive into me. My breath quickened as sweaty bliss overcame me. He was not far behind, letting out a cry of pleasure only moments after. 

My head fell against the breast of his suit, and a deep exhaustion settled over me. We sat alone a while, the twilight shrouding us. The wind blew subtly in from the balcony, heavy with the wet scent of the gulf, into the room. My heart beat steadily tolled in my ears while his breath still labored below me. I nearly closed my eyes before I noticed on the table beside us a crystal twinkle- the few stray beams of light hitting the gruesome barrel of his gun- red in the moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEP!!! 
> 
> did she fall too quick?? was it corny??? *sweats*
> 
> P.S 
> 
> https://omghandsex.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> this me tumblr for anyone wanna chat bout reylo feels!!!!!!!!


	4. Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> I tried to take my time with this chapter. I hope I got my picture of Kylo and Rey's reaction to him a little more fleshed out. Maz is like the de facto Yoda of Love~ every time I write her character I think about her and the master code breakers implied affair lmao. :)
> 
> As always your feedback means so much to me and I always enjoy reading it! It is like the best part of my day! so THANK!
> 
> NOTE: there is some light violence in this chapter as a warning

The spell was broken. Whatever physical feelings I had felt during the moment were fractured as I looked at that gun, laying silent beside us. My stomach turned all kinds of sour as imagined what deeds had been done with that weapon. How many people had this man killed? Who would he kill… I felt ashamed. I felt disgusted- Something wretched in me reared its head and I couldn’t stand another second in his arms. 

Jerking out of his lap, I covered my body in disgrace and rushed to pick up my clothes. In a quick snatching motion, he scooped me back into his lap and ground into me. The strength of his touch was startling. 

“Where do you think you're going?” He whispered, toyingly like this was a lover’s game. It frightened me- the thought of playing games with him. 

“I gave you what you wanted,” I dismissed, pushing off his arms.

Fumbling to put on the dress I rushed for the door. My hands were shaking. Then I heard the creak of his chair. Timidly, I turned around to see him looming behind me. His shadowy figure stalked towards me, backing me against the panel door. He rested his arm above me on the doorframe, while leaning into my ear.

“You know-“ He whispered, casting his eyes over me lustfully, “I can take whatever I want.”

Little strips of light from the outer room pierced through the slats in the panel door and stretched across his eyes. I looked up into them and saw nothing- just darkness. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before- the bleakness- the evil in him- but for one of the first instances in my life, I was truly scared. 

“We’re done here.” I spat through my teeth, before ducking under his arm. 

That is when I felt it, his other hand shooting up to meet my neck. My ribcage filled with feathers, as he pushed me up against the door. In anger, his eyes sparkled.

“No one walks away from me.” He said, and I believed he meant it. 

For a second a million possible decisions raced through my mind. 

“Mister…” I paused, taking a long gaze at him, “We’re done.” Without another thought, I backhanded him across the jaw. 

He stumbled backward in shock, his expression crumbling off in horror. He looked at me, aghast, as he took several more steps back. The utter blankness of his expression was a sight to behold. I don’t think he had been hit by anyone point blank in a very long time. Freed from his grasp, I backed out of the room, and as intense and as somewhat strange as it was, I kept my eyes locked with his- until the door shut between us. 

The outside sitting room looked at me with animosity and disapproval. The walls and doors were thin here, so I knew they heard at least most of what had happened. I suspected however that they thought I was the one who was hit, not he. The blonde woman scowled at me, before shoving me out the room like the can to the curb. The door was slammed in my face and I was left in the hall- tears forming in my eyes. 

I clutched my sides, as the dance music downstairs flowed incessantly- maddeningly- to the same relentlessly happy tempo. The familiar taste of abandonment hung in my mouth. After all that I was alone again, like it had not even happened. 

Half-walking, half-running, I went down the hall back to Madame Maz’s room. I didn’t know the knocking code that Fionn had used and didn’t care. I was getting my things and I was leaving. Now. I rapped furiously on the door. The slat did not open, instead, I heard a shuffling inside. 

“Who? Who?” Cried Maz exasperated through the door. “Who knocks?”

“René!” I said, my head lowered. “René…”

A couple of moment of silence passed, and the door unlocked. 

“Come- come,” Maz ushered me in, locking the door behind me. “My child!” She exclaimed, putting her hand up to my cheek and brushing it. “Why are you crying?” 

“My clothes- I need them.” I pleaded, trying to sort out the confusing and bitter emotions in my mind.

“Who did this to you?” Maz quizzed, following me as looked for my clothes

“Was your client a deviant? Did he ask you whip him or something?” 

“Whip him?” I said astonished. “Why would I do that?”

She shook her head exaggeratedly. “Nevermind- forget I said it but-“ she jostled into my face, “-I refuse to let you leave until you tell me why- Ray.”

The sound of that name rung in my ears- It was everything I was not. I sank down onto the chaise in defeat. 

“I thought could-“ I paused my thoughts racing around me, “I really thought could be someone different- someone who could make love and not get attached or- or emotional- someone who was strong and sexual and didn’t give herself away- someone who didn’t mind the company she kept.” My hands ran over my legs as I remember how he felt between them. I caved into myself. 

“But I’m not like that.” I sobbed, “And I don’t think I could ever be like that. I’m too old-fashioned. I’m too romantic. I want to be needed- not used- and I can’t do this no matter what the price is. I don’t have the snuff to go on. I’m weak- and I’m stupid- and I’m afraid I have made a most awful mess of things as it is.” 

Maz nodded at me like she the knew answers to all of my problems like she had heard it all before from crying girls like me. “Tell me, Ray, how did you ‘mess’ it up.”

I ran my hands together in pensiveness. “I’m afraid I struck him.” 

“You struck him?” She gasped, “Him who?” 

“The man in number twelve,” I admitted. “The Gangster.” 

“And you're here?” The alarm in her voice boomed. “You hit him and you're here?” 

“I suppose it was an incredibly foolish thing-“

“Foolish!“ She shook. “You’re lucky that your face is still pretty and that your arm is not broken.“ Maz had to sit down from the stress of it all. After some silence and some more of my horrid blubbering, Maz began to drum her little fingers in thought

“You know-“ in a still voice she mentioned, “-he let you go. He could have done anything- but he let you go. He does not just let people go.”

“I think he was too surprised really- to do anything.” 

“I bet so.” She sighed while lighting a fresh cigarette. “You know- I think that you are wrong about yourself. No weak girl would have hit him- a weak girl would cower- like they all have before- like they all do here.” 

I hung in shame. “But I am weak.”

“For what?” She chided, “For enjoying it? –Ah!” Maz’s face lit up as she grasped the source of my embarrassment and guilt. “So he is good- no?”

“Oh Madame- very good.” I wanted to vanish through the wall. 

She smirked. “There is nothing wrong with enjoying your work.” 

“But with a killer-“ I declared, “With Killer?”

“He’s a man.” She shrugged. “You’re a woman. Pleasure does not know circumstance.”

My tears had dried up but my resolve had not. “If it is all the same- I’d like to leave now.”

Maz groaned, “You know I get terribly attached to my girls.” She said while going to her trunk and fishing out my outfit. “They are my sisters- my brood.” She handed me my things. “Once I have let you through my door- well then you have entered my business- understand.” 

“I think so,” I said with a small smile, feeling somewhat touched by her speech, and began to dress. 

Just then there was a rhythmic tapping on the door. 

“Tch. Who could that be.” Maz mumbled getting a little footstool and putting it before the door so she was eye level with the slat. 

“What?” She said as she opened it. 

“It’s about that new whore of yours-“ 

It was the voice of the woman in the sitting room. My eyes grew as large as saucers, as I finished slipping on my clothes. 

“Yes. What about her?” Maz said in a cool even tone as if hadn’t been pouring my heart out to her only moments before. 

The woman exhaled unenthusiastically. “She ran off without her dough.”

I turned my head towards the door in disbelief, as Maz took a wad of cash through the little opening. From Maz’s body language I could tell it was a lot. 

“If only he paid all of them this well!” Maz cheered, to the woman’s great aggravation. 

“Goodnight.” She grumbled. 

“Yes- yes goodnight,” Maz said while absently closing the slat in her face. 

Stepping off the stool Maz counted the money several times over, each time her expression growing more amazed. She sat down at her vanity and laid it out. Unable to contain my curiosity I got up and looked over her shoulder at my compensation. I put my hand up to my mouth. Three hundred dollars. I had never seen that much money in one place before in my life- half a year’s salary- just sitting on there

“What a bounty- You must have left quite an impression on him.” Maz murmured dividing up the money between us as according to the contract. As she pressed my hundred and fifty dollars into my hand, she patted it tenderly. “If you would stay- I’m sure I could make you into the best.”

“Thank-you.” I said, “For all that you have done, but-” 

“Don’t say no-“ She put her hand to my mouth, “Never say no- it is too final- just leave Ray if you must and think about. You have so much to learn about love.”

I gathered my shawl around me and left the same way I came without speaking to another person. If I had lacked excitement or interest in my life this night had more than compensated for all my daydreams. The rhythmic jive of the club music still hung in my feet as walked home. As I came home to my tired apartment, I did what she told me to do, I thought it about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked!! 
> 
> Also- thought: what are yalls opins about voodoo being used as like a control mechanism for Snoke?? like in place of force brain washing??????


	5. Fresh Faced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!!
> 
> Back with a new chapter!! this one here is a bit dialog heavy but I hope you like anyway!! thanks for all your lovely comments and for reading <3

I woke up the next morning and left directly for work, as I did not have the appetite for breakfast. For mornings in general, I had no true complaints. The streetcar was on time. The crowds were not too numerous nor too rude. And even the reporters and ambulance chasers, who liked to linger outside of the station didn’t accost me with anything more than a whistle of acknowledgment as I went in. Yet, as I sat down at my desk in my casually worn tweed ladies suit and tucked nude nylon clad legs under my chair- I felt like a terrible fraud. 

Taking off my gloves, I directed my attention to the stack of work on my desk and began typing. A report here- A letter there- Salutations and regards. It was as mundane as I remembered.

“Oh- Hello Rose.” I greeted absently, not looking up from my desk. 

“Hiya!” She bubbled, taking the receptionist’s desk across from me. Not noticing my glum mood, she opened her compact and began sprucing. “Did you see that reporter from the Times-Picayune out on the corner? Wouldn’t mind if he laid a line or two on me.”

I glanced up, with a knowing smile. “So that’s why you’re late.” 

She swiveled in her chair. “He’s more than just a looker- He’s quick too. Ever read his column? He has that murder all figured out.”

“Which one-“ I said drily. “Don’t you people drop like flies these days?“

“The Murder,“ She emphasized, leaning forward on her desk. “You know- that society woman Mrs. Holdo of Holdo’s department stores- the one the old boys have been working on like mad?” I made a noise of recognition, and she nodded.

“He thinks she was protecting someone.” She said in an excited whisper. 

“Isn’t everyone?” I sighed wistfully, starting to type again.

“Say- there is something different about you?” Rose commented, staring at me intently while she undid her hat to reveal her smart French bob. 

“Is there?” My brow furrowed, pretending to be invested in my work. 

“Don’t play dumb-“ She kidded while she brought out her typewriter. “Usually you like this sort of talk- and now a barely a peep out of you!”

I shrugged dejectedly. “Not in the mood this morning I guess.”

“Some coffee will right your wrongs!” She sang while fetching the electric pot out of the drawer. In a jiffy she had it set up and had it bubbling on the side table. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She said as she poured us two. 

I watched the coffee grounds swirl in my cup. “It’s not something easily discussed,” I said as I took a sip.

Rose sat down on my desk. “Did some fellow do you wrong?” 

“I don’t have a fellow,” I said, plainly. 

“Well then what is it?”

I rested my head in my hands a while before looking back at her. “I don’t know… just forget about it.” 

“Okay.” She patted my shoulder and returned to her desk. 

We worked that way for quite a while without a word passing between us. Just the same, the steady drumming of the typewriter keys and the incessant ringing of the telephone kept the office lively. Chief Solo came in at a quarter past eight looking severely tired, and sorely in need of a good shave and shower. He gave us both a curt hello before barricading himself in his office. More bad news it seemed. 

I adjusted in my seat, the guilt of renigging on the Poe’s plan burning into me. I had thought that I would have been more mature about the whole thing, but like a true artist- I had put a little too much of myself into my performance. In truth, the fresh memories of him were like a forest fire eating me alive from the inside out. My focus drifted again and again. I hated myself for dwelling on the terror and curiosity he inspired in me. I hated myself for leaving. Most of all I hated the self-pity that I felt myself beginning to wallow in. 

Trying to ignore it as much as possible I put my nose to the grindstone and before I knew it, lunch rolled around. I grabbed my sack out of my desk just as Dameron came through the door. 

“How’s it?” He asked the both of us. 

“Never better,” Rose replied, 

“Great- great-“ He replied, before leaning over my desk, and looking into my eyes with a knowing expression, “Mind taking a small walk with me with me to catch some air.” 

“Alright.” I nodded, taking my sack and my gloves. 

Rose winked at me as we left and I made a funny face at her over my shoulder. Dameron walked me out of the office doors arm in arm like we were an item, and for once the street corner wolves didn’t make a pass. He motioned for us to go sit down together at an outside table at Bill’s, the corner a coffee shop and delicatessen across the street. It was warm outside but pleasant. When the boy came Dameron ordered a roast beef on rye- and I got a coffee. 

“Don’t know how you managed it.” Dameron finally said as the food arrived. 

“What?” I asked, my voice muffled by packed eggs salad.

“That is just it-“ He bit his knuckles. “No one would have guessed it.” 

“I don’t get it?” 

He laughed softly at me, “Here you are all fresh faced, unassuming, how did you get that man around your finger?”

“Your kidding!” I exclaimed in surprise a little too loudly, before taking a self-conscious bite while passers-by gave me stares. 

Dameron shook his head in affirmation firmly while smiling at my dumbfounded expression. “Fionn says the guy’s mad for you- head over heels-“ He made a zipping noise with his teeth. 

“What on earth…” I put down my food in thought. 

“I gather you’re just as surprised as I am.”

“What makes you think that he thinks that I’m all that?”

“Fionn said that this morning a new fur coat, a box of chocolates, an emerald bracelet, as well a box of two dozen roses were left all for you know who,” He pointed his roast beef sandwich in my general direction. “Maz is keeping them for you.”

That addition struck me through the heart. Maz is keeping them for you. She thought I was going to come back. She thought I was going to come around. Either that or Dameron didn’t know what had happened- that I had run away from the metaphorical fight.

“So- she didn’t tell you and Fionn?”

“Tell us what?” Dameron said in between bites.

I looked at him long and hard, as he happily looked back.

“He had already paid me a hundred and fifty dollars,” I said, not having the pluck to tell him.

“Wow!” He said, “This really is something- she didn’t tell us that bit. If things keep going like this, before long you will be able to get close enough to him to find out everything we could possibly need to take out their whole set up. So are you going to go back tonight cause I need to tell Fionn?”

I took a sip of my coffee. “I don’t think so.” 

“Oh, I get the drift!” Dameron grinned, “Playing hard to get- and all that.” 

“Yeah.” I glanced at my watch. “Nearly twelve thirty I get going.”

“Sure thing sister,” Dameron said.

After I picked up the bill with much protesting from Dameron, I paid with some of my new found money. We walked back together to the station and he dropped me off at the Chief’s office with a smile on his face. I felt even more guilty than ever. 

Biting my lip, I sat down behind my desk. I snuck a glance across my desk. Rose had just finished her lunch and was back at work organizing some files. She was so level-headed- so practical and cheery. I knew if I told Dameron, he would encourage me to soldier on no matter what, partly because it was his plan and partly because he was idealistic, but Rose… She was idealistic too but she was tender in equal portions.

“Suppose,” I said, going out on a limb. “What if I did- you know- have a fellow?”

Rose’s face lit up as she turned to. “So- you do have a fellow!”

“No- no- no.” I gestured hesitantly. “I’m not saying I do.”

“But you're saying you could have one?” Rose grinned charmingly. 

I twisted a pencil on my desk. “I could. I think I could.” 

“Who is it? Is it Dameron?” She said, eager to hear every embellish detail to flow from my mouth. 

“I don’t want to say- It wouldn’t be like that anyway,“ I contemplated.

“Like what?“

“Like he wouldn’t really be my fellow- he would just be a man.”

Her eyes got big. “You mean he’s settled down already?”

“He is settled down in a sense of the word.”

“Engaged?” She exclaimed. 

“Yes, ‘engaged,’” I mused, somewhat sarcastically, “It’s a kind of terrible engagement- and I don’t feel right about being involved with him while he is currently involved as he is.”

“Rats-“ She snapped her fingers. “Every attractive man has a ball and chain these days.” She sat down in a huff before her eyes twinkled with romantic notions. “I feel like a wretch suggesting it, but maybe you could get between him and his almost-Mrs. if this engagement is as rotten as all that. You know to save him from himself.”

“The thing is Rose-“ I paused, in thought. “If I break it up- I’m certain it will ruin him. There will be no saving him.”

“Oh…” Rose scoffed. “He’s engaged to one of those society girls isn’t he- the simply loaded and frigid type right?”

“There is a lot of money involved on his end- and connections.” I sighed, not wanting to really involve her in the true facts of the matter. “I honestly don’t even presume to change him. I don't even truly know him. Moreover- he’s not even a gentleman. He’s rough. He’s vile.”

“Well if he like this then- why are you so shook up about him? ” 

“Because I find myself… compelled to know him,” I tried to explain, “And he seems insistent upon knowing me.”

She gazed at me compassionately, “It’s as bad as all that is it.” 

“I’m afraid it is-” I groaned, “What should I do? Should I- even though he is a downright bad egg- keep company with him till we can’t keep company anymore? Or just refuse?”

“You should do what you think is right.” She comforted, “If you think that you need to protect yourself then don’t get involved, but if you want to live life on the fly then go for it. Simple as that.” 

I looked at her solemnly. Even if she didn’t really know what we were talking about she told me what I needed to hear. It was a decision between my personal wellbeing and emotions and the safety of others. Simple as that. I went out to the telephoned Dameron’s desk from my own. 

The electric crackle of his voice came through the line. “Hello.”

“Tell Fionn I’m coming tonight.” I murmured into the receiver.

“Changed your mind?” He asked, surprised.

“Yes… Yes, I have.”

“Sure thing. I’ll call Fionn to have him waiting for you same time same place. Got it!”

“Got it.”

I hung up and ran my fingers through my hair. I was really doing this all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So- went for a little bit of both here- she does end up going back- but he also is really really interested :D


	6. Only Fools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!! 
> 
> this chapter is a bit lorge >_> but I resisted the urge to make it into two!!! I'm so happy that you guys are enjoying this story and I'm having such a great time sharing it with you. As always thanks for reading. <3
> 
> been obsessed with this soundtrack in case u peeps wanna listen  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-o1GhagfY7E

The rest of the workday went by painfully slow. I felt like I was going mad sitting behind my desk as unwinding daydreams curled around me. This wasn’t about me or what I wanted or how I felt- I was doing it for them- I told myself. But a deep dart of me was glad- even eager to go back. It was the very same desire that had made me run away the first time. The notion that I might be something other than the “good girl” was rattling me to the core. Like sea sickness, or holding in a laugh, it was making me light headed and tight in my chest. However, as the hours ticked by, I arrived at a conclusion. I was going to play for keeps this time, and I wanted every inch of me to be as perfect as possible.

When I got off work at half-past five, l decided to act on this notion, and go spend some of my new found wealth before heading off to the Blue Room again. I took a streetcar down to Canal Street to go to Holdo’s Department store- the nicest and the ritziest place in town. I had been there a once before- with the Chief- as he had given a press conference about the poor unfortunate Mrs. Holdo there. I hadn't really gone past the main lobby area then, and as I stepped off the car, I remembered why. Holdo’s was a terribly daunting establishment. I felt terribly shabby as I walked up to the place, as it was such a palace of commercial opulence, but I didn’t care. I was going to spend my money there if it killed me. 

The doorman gave me a nasty side-eye as I approached him, but he let me in any way. As soon as I was inside, I made a beeline for the nearest counter. It happened to be the beauty department. I bought a bottle of Number Five, which I knew Rose wore. I then bought some cosmetics- which I knew nothing about applying- but thought looked good on the girls selling them. After I shopped at a couple of more counters it was realized that I was spending some serious cash. Quickly, any snobbery melted away and I was graciously helped around the store. I got some nylons, brassieres, shoes, and I eventually ended up in evening wear. 

The mustache donning attendant sat me down on a couch while a group of models came out, advertising all different kinds of fantastic fashions- furs, silk gowns, golden fringe wraps. Truly, it was astonishing to see what the upper crust wore. As girl after girl went by me, it began to really sink in: the clear portrait of a society girl. I had felt comfortable, but that gave me chills. That was something I knew I never would be, even if I wished it. The thought of being a champagne popping Zelda was petrifying. 

“See anything Mademoiselle?” The attendant asked, with a flourish. 

“Do you have anything- simpler?” I asked, trying to be polite, “More subtle?”

“Of course- of course- how tiring- for us to have shown you these-” He spoke in half breaths while shooing away the girls. With delicate dandyish gestures, he then turned to me and looked at my face intently. I could tell that he knew that I was young, and it didn’t take a genius to know I was of the nouveau riche, given my current threadbare attire. I wondered what he thought of me as he stared. Was it obvious, where my means came from- 

“Do not worry-“ He sang, “I have just the thing.”

He rushed off behind me and came back with a lovely white gown. It was silk true, and it was beaded, but it was lovely. Not at all like the parade of glitzy glamour I had been subjected to. 

“I’ll take it.” I grinned, and it was whisked away to be wrapped up with my other things. 

All in all- I spent around fifty dollars in total. It physically hurt me to part with that much money at once. But if shopping at Holdo’s taught me one thing, it was how much fun that pain could be. I took a cab home since there was no way I could carry my whole caravan of packages home. When I got to my flat, time seemed to fly. I made a little to eat, set my hair, and laid everything out. When I was satisfied that everything was in order, I set my alarm and tried my best to sleep until the time was right to get ready. It was difficult, but exhaustion from the long day and the long night finally took over. 

The moon was at its zenith when I snuck out of my flat down the fire escape. My apartment house was one of those “young ladies only” institutions that was pleasant enough but had a policy of no male visitors and a strict curfew to keep the riff-raff from boarding there. Thankfully, climbing out of windows wasn’t exactly foreign to me as I used to do all the time as rat trap child, and I made it easily to the ground.

I ran to catch the streetcar and pushed through the colorful late night crowd to sit in the back. A little smile formed on my face as I noticed that my little disguise was working. Before I left that night, I had pinned the lengths of my dress up into my garters, and then had donned a long brown coat and hat. From looking at me no one would know how chic I was really dressed. I didn’t need any trouble or attention. Lord knows I would get enough of that later tonight. 

I clenched my coat to myself. Later tonight… I mouthed soundlessly, as the city jostled by. Those two words held such promise. 

When I got off at the Blue Room, I practically jumped off. My heels clicked on the ground underneath me as I hurried to the back door. My new perfume surrounded me like a cloud of flowers, despite my heady pulse and flushed sweat from the heat. The door unlocked just as I got there at midnight. Fionn’s gloved hand ushered me in. 

“Looked what the cat dragged in!” He chirped, “Dameron isn’t here tonight, but you can trust me can’t you love?”

“Sure thing,” I said, with a wink. 

“Beautiful-“ He took my hand and brought me through the kitchen again. “The man’s in his usual room again- he came in way early today- six or seven- might eager ain’t he?”

I blushed red hot. “Well, I guess that is a good thing?”

“Good?” Fionn exclaimed as we went up the stairs. “Fantastic is what it is.” He went up to Maz’s door and knocked. This time I tried to remember how the rhythm went. 

Her eyes peered out at us, and instantly the slat was shut and the door was unlocked. 

“In- in- in,” She commanded, motioning with her long cigarette. 

I waved goodbye to Fionn as she took me by the hand and pulled me through the doorway. 

“You’ve kept him waiting!” She said obviously in a somewhat frenzied state. 

“I didn’t know he came…” My words trailed off as I saw the gifts that had been sent to me in the corner of Maz’s room. Hearing them described by Dameron did nothing in comparison to seeing them. Overwhelmed, I walked over to open what I knew had to be the bracelet box. 

“Not now!” Maz whacked my shoulder with her cigarette holder. “Get dressed.”

“But I am?” I said in confusion.

Maz made a disapproving sound as she looked at my coat. Realizing my forgetfulness, I quickly took off my coat and hat. The dress unfolded around me in whoosh at hit the floor. I smoothed out with my hand adjust the sash that dropped right below the waist. Maz nodded approvingly. 

“See my taste has begun to rub off already.” She smirked while reaching up to straighten some of my loose finger wave curls. 

“Now.” She clapped her hands briskly. “Go- you have caught him, now tame him.”

I smiled nervously once last time into the mirror before headed for the door. As I opened it Maz grabbed me by the shoulder, “Ray- remember- don’t be afraid. No matter what- Be in control and he will not control you.” 

“Yes, Madame.” I murmured. She smiled reassuringly, before gesturing for me to go down the hall. My dress fluttered softly behind me as I strode towards number twelve, and all the images of what would happen- what should happen- when I came upon his door flooded my mind. How would he make he blush? How would he touch me? With each step, my mind bloomed anew. Breathing short and quick, I arrived. My heart was ringing in my ears. I turned to look back at Maz, who was still peeping at me through a half-closed door, and I knocked. 

The woman answered. “Finally.” 

Was she ever pleasant, I wondered as I came into the sitting room. There was the same amount of men in there as last time, and they looked just as unforgiving. I wasted no time there and went directly to the folding doors. Taking a final breath- I slid through them. 

The room was unlit, just as before, but this time I saw him clearly. His dark silhouette stood out boldly against the balcony. My feet suddenly stopped, as if I was intruding.  
I felt a tug in the middle of my chest, as he turned his head to look at me looking at him. Our eyes met in the middle. I seemed to apologize. He seemed to thrive. It felt endangered, as the seconds ticked away, the muffled noise of the club pulsing below us. 

“No one walks away from away from me,” He mused with a half smile as if proving a point. 

He pulled his cigarette from his mouth and let the dwindling bud fall to the floor. With meditative pacing, he walked towards me, and as he did my lips pursed. Some people live their whole life without feeling it- without it happening to them- but I was an unlucky soul. I hadn’t even done anything. It just awakened upon its own accord. It was right. It felt right. Do you know how terrifying certainty can be?

“You know I just can’t quite figure you out-“ He said as he brushed my face with his hand. “You look like a debutante and yet you hit like an urchin. Would you mind telling me which you are?” 

I stayed silent, partly because I was uncertain of how to answer, but mostly because I was still trying to figure out who this man truly was. 

“I see it one of two ways-“ He began again, circling around me to the bar. “Either no one has one ever told you it’s not ladylike to hit people- or you think that I’m just such rotten piece of work that it is and was your right to hit me. Either way, it takes some nerve.” 

He laughed in the steal tipped sort of way while making himself a drink. Softly, I sat down on one of the sofas. He sat down across from me, his eyes never straying from me.

“You don’t talk much you know that. I don’t know how to feel about that. I don’t like mysteries.” He took a sip. “I always want to solve them.” 

I crossed my legs. He adjusted forward in his chair and unbuttoned his suit readily. Inside his breast pocket, my eye was drawn to a twinkling. It was his gun. I could not help but stare at it again. 

“Oh so is that what set you off- this?” With an understanding glimmer in his eye, he pulled it out of his pocket and turned it in the light. With a small sigh, he set it on end table beside him. “So, you know who I am then- what I do- my racket?”

“I have my ear to the ground.” I finally said. 

A shadowy smile formed on his mouth. “So- not a debutante?”

“Not exactly.” 

He got up to sit next to me. I could smell his faint cologne as he put his arm over the back of the sofa- his fingers grazing my back. He leaned in.

“Do you get into trouble a lot?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here- with me?” He murmured, getting ever closer. 

“Are you saying you're trouble?” I teased breathlessly. 

“You know I am chickadee- Remember you had your ear to the ground.” His hand breezed down my back to my waist. 

I got up suddenly startled, and somewhat skittish. That was not like how he had touched me before. Trying to regain my poise, I wandered over to the balcony. He pursued, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. 

“A simple answer is all I need,” He pushed again. “I know you’re not here because of my swimming first impression.”

I arched my brow. “A girl likes nice things.”

“Debutants like nice things. You’re not a debutant.”

“Maybe, I want to be one.” I gasped, as he kissed my neck. 

“Well- you can’t go around hitting perfectly nice strangers then.” He whispered into my ear. 

“You’re not a nice stranger.”

“Says who?”

“Says you.”

“You want to be smart?“ He turned me to face him, a flash of anger in his eyes. “You are going to be on the level with me and that’s that- you understand.” 

I could feel the tension boiling in him- how much it meant to him- me being his pet. Maz’s parting word resurfaced in my mind. I put my hands on my hips. 

“Or what?”

“Or I might make you be on the level me and you won’t like that.” His hands hung heavily on my shoulders. 

“I’d like to see you try.” I spat. 

“Oh… there it is.” He hummed somehow pleased at my outburst. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” I scoffed, increasingly irked at his amusement. 

“Go ahead and hit me.” He goaded smugly, “I’m not going to let you get away this time.”

“Why you-“ I wrestled in his grasp, kicking and elbowing. With each almost blow he somehow wrangled me closer, until he had me fully in aggravatingly long his arms. Face to face, inches apart, and breathing heavily- he took one last look into my eyes before kissing me. What a fool I had felt for struggling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEP! 
> 
> hope the chapter wasn't too much!!! tried hard to give Kylo some more dialog etc. hope you liked it!!


	7. Match Set

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI!! long time no see am i right :D sorry it took me so gawd damn long but classes were really beating me down. Hope you like the latest up date <3

I melted into his embrace, an inner fever growing inside me. I kissed him back as though I would wake up covered in a cold sweat. Desperately, he lifted his hands to cup my cheeks. Woven in each others touch, we swayed interlocked. An ache sprung in my lungs and lips, as if given the choice I would never let go. My emotions welled-up inside my throat. The tension that I had been feeling inside swelled and changed forms. It made me think of when I was a little child- before things went wrong- before I was alone.

Abruptly, I pushed him away, frightened at my intoxicated need.

His eyes twinkled at me furiously, before he lit up a fresh cigarette in my face, content and coy.

Shaken, I clung to myself, as I fluttered onto the balcony. My perspiration had made my dress cling to my skin, paper thin. The rush I felt flowing through me was volatile. I didn’t need to feel the things I was feeling. I needed to remember why I was here and leave this behind me while I still could.

“We go good together,” He said, joining me outside in the breezy air.

My halo of curls around my face blew in the summer wind.

He took several deep long puffs.

“Is that supposed to be an invitation?” I sniffed, my arms folded, my head high.

“It’s a fact.” His lips formed a calm smirk.

“Just like how it is a fact that I own this joint and that own this town-”

“And that you own me?” I cut, subtle but noticeable anger in my voice.

He gathered my hands into his deftly, and before I could pull away, he drew me into his arms. Softly, he guided me to the tune of the music drifting from the open windows and doors downstairs. I felt small in his embrace, fragile as we swayed. I wondered if he liked how easily it seemed he could break me.

“No matter where your little feet stray in the city you will be walking on my ground.” He whispered into my ear, “I won’t have you seeing anyone else- not in my backyard- not anywhere- we’re a match set.”

His words were filled with possibilities that made me quake inside. He was dead set on this. He was as sure as I was- that there something here- something worth discovering.

“And you just decided this?” I murmured, gesturing vaguely with my hand.

“Yes.” He replied, audaciously confident.

“How did you figure that that would be alright with me? I do have a life.”

“You came here didn’t you.”

I rested my forehead against the crook of his neck in defeat. It maddened me how right he was.

A telephone rang from inside the room, interrupting our intimate moment. Annoyed, he stomped into the room to answer it, leaving me out on the deck. My ears perked up as soon as I heard the click of the receiver being picked up. This could be it- information on what the Cartel was going to do next.

“Well?” He barked into the phone.

“We a have situation down here.” A male voice buzzed on the line.

“A situation?” Killer spat, “I have a situation up here.” He gestured at me brashly.

“I know where you are Killer,” Snapped the voice, “It’s not as important as business.”

Killer turned his back to me for a moment restlessly.

“What kind of business?”

“I’m not talking over the wire- come and meet me I’l-“

“If it’s that fucking important you can tell me now! Spit it out!”

I half hid behind the screen door of the balcony. The rage in his body- in his voice- was chilling even if it wasn’t directed at me. A long silence elapsed with him standing over the phone like an angry mountain.

“I-“ The voice finally responded, “I need that- touch- of yours- something I won’t stoop- errr- bring myself to do. You know how it is. Your work. My work. It’s all very different.”

Killer didn’t say anything for a while. He just loomed there, impatient and resentful.

“Alright.” He admitted, finally relaxing his shoulders. “Alright, I’ll come over.”

“We’re using the red five of clubs tonight.”

“Sure thing.” He groaned, letting the phone click on the receiver.

My mind was still processing all that had been said when his gaze turned to me. Suddenly, I was ashamed that I had shielded myself behind that blasted screen door. Where were my guts?

“Do you let everyone talk to you like that?” I scoffed, trying to regain some poise.

“Apparently.” He mused, lighting up another cigarette, “How bout you and me go out on the town tonight?”

“Don’t you have to-“

“Yes, but say I’ll bring you along. It’s a real nice place.”

My heart skipped a beat. Did he trust me that soon- that easily? It seemed too good to be true.

“Alright- I’ll come.”

It was true what Dameron had said about him. Outside, he did wear his coat collar up and he did don dark tinted glasses. Paired with his hat pulled down over his face, he was quite a menacing figure. His band of men came with us as we took the back away out of the Blue Room. I guess he wasn’t one to keep a high profile or take risks, when in transit. 

There was a group of three long black cars waiting for us in the alley. Of the three, the one in the middle was obviously his, with its black and red details and sleek lines, it was clearly built for speed. He snapped his fingers and a couple men opened the doors to the car and we climbed in. I glanced at the dashboard. The speed dial went all the way up to 100 miles per hour. I had no idea something could go that fast. It seemed unreal- unearthly-

“I used to do some racing,” he said nonchalantly. “Europe and the like.”

“Why’d you stop?”

He pondered it awhile. “I was bored.” He said, adjusting the car into gear.

Bored? I thought. He switched professions because he was bored? I bit my lip. That didn’t sit right with me at all. But if that was all he was going to tell me- I reasoned- that must have meant the real reason why he was here and not speeding around Monte Carlo must have been much more personal. If I was patient- perhaps he would reveal himself little by little to me- and I could find out who he really was. I was determined to this end. I would unravel him.

With a jolt, his car zoomed off into the night, with the other two vehicles finding their place behind him. He kept his hand on my leg the whole hair-raisingly fast drive down to the corner of Iberville and Royal. He never looked at me though. He kept his eyes on the outside world- watching it intently. He didn’t seem nervous but it made me think. What if the police put the pieces together on their own? What if they caught him- right here- right now- in this car? Dameron hadn’t told the Chief or anyone else about our plans. Would the police just shoot into the windows? Would I be an accessory to his crimes? Would I see him kill my friends if he was ambushed? He didn’t talk much while we rode so neither did I. The car ride was intense. 

When we arrived at the “establishment” I was surprised I hadn’t put it together sooner. It was Hux’s god-awful place, complete with it’s notoriously gaudy faux Egyptian façade.

“The Cleopatra Club?” I sighed, as he helped me out of the car.

He arched his eyebrow. “Familiar- didn’t think you the type.”

“Just because I know it doesn’t mean I like it,” I replied, looking him up and down playfully.

He frowned. “You don’t know him do you?”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

My eyes suddenly widen as I connected the dots. “No. I’m not acquainted with Mr. Hux- If that’s what you mean.”

His face settled into a serious sort of expression. “You know his name.”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

His eyes burned softly, unconvinced and jealous, but he didn’t say anything more, instead he just tucked my arm under his tightly. I hadn’t expected him to become so possessive so quickly. It startled me. It made me melt- the feeling of being desired.

The doormen jumped to attention as we walked up to the entrance. Clearly, they knew who he was and weren’t about to look slack-jawed. Once we were inside several scantily clad hatcheck girls in golden wrap dresses took our things and we were offered complimentary cigarettes which he waved away disinterestedly.

“Say- can one of you gals be so sweet as to see if you have my other coat back there?” He asked into the air, gesturing at the closet. “I think I left it here last night.”

“Of course.” One of the hatcheck girls chirped, “Can you tell me anything about the coat?”

“Yeah.” He said, “There is a red five of clubs in the left pocket.”

My heart skipped a beat- that was the same card that Hux had spoken of over the phone. It must have been some sort of password to get into the “real” club.

“Would you just like to come back and take a look for yourself?” Offered the girl, pulling back the velvet curtain to the closet.

“Don’t mind if we do.” He smiled, taking some pleasure in my still surprised expression.

As we walked back into the closet he leaned into my ear. “Do those big brown eyes tell the truth?”

“What truth?

“That you have actually never been here before- I’m mean to the real club.” 

“No, I haven’t.” I slowly admitted

“Then you really don’t know him.” He said triumphantly,

“Would I lie to you?” I whispered, wrapping my fingers around his arm.

“Don’t push it kid,” He softly laughed it off, but I understood. He knew and I knew that there was still a long way to go before either one of us could talk about honesty.

The hatcheck girl stopped at the very back of the closet and pushed aside the coats. Behind them was a false wall which she pressed in a specific spot near the floor. The wall swung open revealing a lavish stairwell from which lush music flowed.

“Enjoy your time with us!” She said, leaving us to go down.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to see this secret club. The very wrongness- the danger- of me enjoying being here with him had my heart racing. I had to keep repeating to myself that I wasn’t here to have fun- I was here to spy- but I knew it was slowly becoming hopeless. 

As we descended the short flight of stairs, his entourage followed close behind us. Together we arrived at the top of a balcony, from which we could see down the width and length of an underground dance hall and bar.

The hall was expansive, covered in frescos, and dripping with mirrors and crystals. Ascending pillars of lotus and papyrus blossoms ran up the sides, dividing the hall from the flanking open dining rooms. Sculptures of Sphinxes made up the columns of the balcony, their mouths pointed upwards towards the mirrored ceiling. From wall to wall it was packed with a great chorus of partygoers that were swinging under the chandelier light. The scent of Champaign and money and fleeting romance was so heavy in the air you could taste it.

“There he is,“ Killer’s woman bodyguard said, pointing down at a slender red-headed man at the bar.

“Thanks, Phaz.” He murmured, “Make sure you scope the place- wanna make sure this is as uneventful as possible- for the lady’s sake.” He gestured at me.

Phaz gave me a sideways glance but nodded.

He adjusted his cuffs before offering me his hand. Effortlessly, he guided me down the flight of stairs that descended from the balcony and onto the edge of the floor.

“Alright let’s hit it.” He said, and instantly his entourage dispersed like vapor into the crowd, leaving just him and I alone.

My mind was trying to make mental notes of where exactly each man placed themselves in the room. This would be valuable information for Dameron in case we ever had to... engage him in a shootout. 

Smoothing his hand on the front of his tuxedo he led me out onto the main floor that had been made sultry by the people. We were embers lost to the flame, consumed by the crowd. The light hung crystals in our eyes. The music permeated our bodies, weighing down on us from above like humidity. If he had been low-profile at the Blue Room- he was a celebrity here. A rush of sweaty hands shakes clung to him. Indistinct faces and voices all wished well. Slowly, we worked our way through the bog of oversized dresses and packs of men, blankly echoing their greetings. My head spinning from the noise, we arrived at the bar.

I had never seen Hux up close and in person, and his reputation did not disappoint. He was every inch the oiled up snake I thought he would be. His red hair was combed back into a fantastically smooth style- almost fanatically smooth- and he was sumptuously dressed in a slim cut black suit with a red rose in the lapel.

“You took your time- we need his information now an-” Hux’s rapid-fire speech stopped in its tracks as he took a look at me. “Say- don’t you usually travel alone?”

“None of your business.” Killer snapped,

Hux nervously smoothed his hair back with his hand.

“Alright- well- apologies to the lady but we need to ah- to have a conversation with someone.”

“I understand.” I nodded, with a small smile.

Hux gave a meek fishy grin before downing his drink and walking out into the floor.

“Stay right here.” Killer said, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I promise I won’t have too much fun without you.” I sighed, propping myself up against the bar, while ghosting my hand along his shoulder.

His ears turned a blushy red before he turned on his heels and headed the same direction as Hux. I watched him walk away until I couldn’t anymore because the crowd had blocked my view. I wondered where he was going- who he was going to “talk” to. I knew it was undoubtedly something unspeakable, but I still I wished I was there to see it- If not only to find out what he was up to for Dameron- but for myself- to find out what he was capable of. I wanted to see it with my own two eyes. 

“Anything for you?” The bartender asked, interrupting my thoughts.

“No- no- I don’t dr-“ I stopped myself. “Yes.” I suddenly said, surprising myself. “Yes, I’ll have the house special.”

“Alright- one Vieux Carré coming up.”

Within a minute the drink was in my hand. As I took a slow sip I wondered- how long was it going to be before this wasn’t a show anymore- before I changed for real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so for any of you who are curious (or a nerd for stuff like this) his car is the 1928 stutz bb blackhawk boattail speedster which was the fastest car of the era and did come in black and red. I just thought he ought to be a speedy boi- like he is in the movies <3


	8. A Different Tune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one here likes Hux- if you do I’m sorry

“Do you wanna buy some Death Sticks?” Crooned a smoky voice next to me.

It had only been a couple of minutes since he had left with Hux and already I had been asked to dance at by least a dozen different men, had been offered enough alcohol to smash an entire boat of sailors, and been called “hot mama” by a rather loud Brooklyn native who had somehow found his way to our swampy shores. That I could take in turn- it was fascinating actually- seeing how men reacted to this me- but being offered drugs by that greasy man was really the absolute most.

“No. I don’t want to buy some death sticks.” I said crossly.

“But they’re the finest! Don’t you ever kick the gong around?” His breath wafted by me, stinking of a mix of reefer and bad hygiene.

“Why don’t you pack up your little sticks and shove off.”

“Ah come on- they came from the house.”

“The house?” I scoffed, “Which house- your mother’s?”

“No this house!” He said, swinging his hands around as if it was obvious.

I rubbed my fingers around the rim of my glass deftly. “This house.” 

“Yeah-“ He put his hand on his chest, “You don't think anyone would be dumb enough to push something in here without it being protected- supported- you know- you know what they do to people like that.”

“Of course,” I nodded slowly. Darting images of Killer standing over the phone pierced through my mind, prompting me to shudder. It was fantastic that so much power, and violence, and strength was packed into that glowingly handsome face. He was ultimate- divine. The druggie was still babbling on with his sale pitch but I wasn’t listening anymore. My mind was floating above me, on the jazz. Nothing at all seemed all that concrete. I looked at the dancers. I watched their feet beat on the floor to the rhythm like mad. I felt mad. Suddenly, the conversation flooded back into my ears like a river.

“Say,” I interrupted the druggie, “What would happen if you weren’t ‘protected.’ Killer’s here tonight you know.”

His face fell as if I had spoken something vile. “Look lady- if you didn’t wanna buy anything you could have just said so. Why-”

“Is this low-life bothering you?” Hux said, immerging from the crowd somewhat disheveled looking and a bit worse for wear.

“No- he was just leaving.” I dismissed, shooing away both the druggie and Hux. The druggie instantly vanished like a puff of smoke, but Hux was not so easily deterred. A wicked grin on his face he slid onto the stool next to me.

“KR will be out in a moment,” He assured while grabbing a glass of champaign “Business can be little complicated sometimes.”

I looked up and down at his disturbed appearance. “I get the picture.” 

“So, you and him having a time of it?” He enquired, an all-knowing smile on his face that irked me to my core.

“I couldn’t say. Why don’t you ask him if you’re so curious?” I retorted, with an equally fake smile.

He sulked back onto his stool “I can see you’re not one of his more agreeable tricks.” He curled his lips like he had tasted something bitter. “Women with attitudes like your’s are quite unattractive.”

“And why would I want to attract you?”

He tapped his fingers on the bar in growing agitation. “You know you’d catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.” 

“Who says I want flies.”

His pasty pale skin turned tomato red, and I could see it in his eyes that he wanted to do something rash- but he slowly swallowed. “I assume you think you’re a very clever little girl- here dressed up like a lady- but you know and I know that you’re nothing.”

“Nothing?” I repeated. I could feel traces of perspiration beginning to gather on my palms, but I wasn’t going to become overwhelmed that easily. I smiled in his face again. “If I’m nothing why did you come over here?”

His eyes boarded into me as if I was made of glass. “KR is a lot like a child in some regards,” He sighed, “He loves novelty, and right now you’re that novelty- a party treat.” He leaned over to me, his complexion returning to its normal hue. “He’s showered with you some gifts- he’s taken you out- he’s said some nice things- but that accounts for nothing. He’s made of money- old money mind you- not fast. All of his affections cost him nothing in the scheme of things.”

The whole time he had been talking to me he had been moving closer and closer and then he finally revealed his angle.

“Now not everyone is like KR though-“ He finally said, “You’ll last a week or two with him- but with me- I collect a lot but I keep them around. It’d be wise of you to mind your manners if you want to grow accustomed to this kind of life.”

“Accustomed? With you?”

I could see him turning that uncomfortable shade of red again.

“You’ll sing a different tune when he’s through with you.” He said through his teeth.

“Same goes for you.”

He rose up from the bar in outrage. “Are you trying to threaten me?”

“Not trying- I am. You just made a lot of big mistakes.”

“And what mistake was that?”

“You just made a pass at KR’s, as you call him, one and only girl- and I’ll tell him too.”

His offense dispelled for a moment as he considered the possible outcomes of such an action. Then his pride swelled up in him like a nasty infection.

“Phaz is loyal to me.” He declared.

“Strange thing to say.” I commented, honestly surprised. “We’re not talking about her. Unless-“ I stopped for a moment as I grasped it,“-do expect her to protect you? Like you can expect anyone to protect you from him… What exactly is he doing right now? I know it's not something nice. What would he do if he was angry- angry at you?”

There was a foul silence.

“You’re out of your depth.” He said coldly.

I blinked. “Am I?”

I hadn’t intended on making enemies, but it seemed we had backed each other into a corner. I wasn’t about to play house with the likes of him, and he didn’t seem to know how to back down. As we eyed each other over our drinks, it felt like we were sitting on a time bomb.

“Enjoying yourself.”

Killer’s voice cut through the air, making us jump in mutual surprise. I reached over to greet him with a kiss on the cheek, but as I did I noticed that he was wearing a different suit jacket. My inside curled in on themselves- What could he have done that would have made him that dirty?

Despite my somewhat alarmed reaction, Killer didn’t even glance at me. Instead, he was focused solely on Hux. His eyes burned into him while he brought a fresh cigarette up to his mouth. As he cupped his face to light it, I noticed his freshly blooded knuckles.

“Did he-“ Hux stopped midsentence as he looked back at me. “I think we should discuss this somewhere else. I’m sure the lady is not interested in business.”

Hux’s condescending tone made my blood boil.

“You think we should discuss this…” Killer reflected in an almost mocking tone.

Hux shifted uncomfortably on his barstool, “Well, that is, only if you want to KR.”

Killer bitterly laughed out a puff of smoke. Sighing, he tipped back the brim of his hat. “You think you can talk your way out? That’s what you’re telling me- giving me- that you think you can talk your way out of this- well let’s hear it- all reasons why this isn’t your fault.“ He dared in an ever exasperated and impatient tone. 

Hux stuttered for a moment, and then suddenly began to gush half form sentences and apologetic sounds.

“There is no excuse!” Killer struck the bar with his fist silencing Hux. “I’m not giving you an inch of ground. I’m holding you responsible- and that’s that. This isn’t going ‘unreported’- I will tell him about this little incident.”

“Please,” Hux entreated, “Aren’t you being unreasonable? 

Killer took a deep inhale while looking at the ground. “It was your man?”

“Well- it was on your ground wasn’t it.” Hux waved his hands about frantically. “It didn’t happen here- on my watch.”

Killer put his hands on his hips in annoyance. “You give me a man- you say he’s good- you say he’s worked for you- and well it just isn’t so. He isn’t and wasn’t good. I can hold you responsible for that can’t I.”

“Did he tell you?” Hux gasped.

Killer exhaled a little cloud of smoke. “The Italians.” 

“The Italians- blood hell- the Italians-” Hux began pacing.

“Like I said that is your territory- I don’t deal in the politics of it all.”

“Did he tell you why?” Hux probed while muttering under his breath.

“No. He wasn’t too into talking mood remember. That’s why you called me down here isn’t?”

So, I thought, he had been beating a confession out of someone. Couldn’t say I was surprised given the copious amounts of circumstantial evidence, but hearing it practically come out of his mouth was another thing. A good half of me knew- and had always known- and had accepted the fact that this is what he did: kill and intimidate people. Then the other half… The other half hated myself for knowing and still feeling this way about him- still being attracted to him. Even with faced with the testimony and the physical evidence of his cruelty I still couldn’t bring myself to say that I had no feelings- That I was not at some deep level drawn to understand him.

Hux finally stopped pacing for a moment. “Do you think there are others?”

Killer, who had been distantly looking out into the crowd, redirected his gaze towards the ceiling in thought. “Honestly,” He murmured, “I don’t even know if it is the Italians he is working for. He is damned loyal and determined- that is something that is hard to just buy- as you’ve learned the hard way.”

“You mean you think even after all that- he still lying.”

“He’s not innocent. That’s the only thing I sensed for sure.”

“Brilliant.” Hux spat while running his hand back over his hair. “What do you want to do with him?”

“Keep him around.” Killer answered, still gazing at the ceiling, blowing slow curls of smoke.

“What?” Hux burst.

“Maybe, whoever he is really working with will crawl out of the woodwork and try to contact him.”

Hux’s eyes grew wide with thought. “You don’t think it is the feds?”

The churning I had been feeling in my chest suddenly stilled with fright. Dameron and Fionn- were they involved in all of this? Frantically my mind rewound the whole conversation. Who was the man? He worked here first and then for Killer and then did something- betrayed them? How?

Who was the man...

“Like I said I hold you responsible Hux.” Killer said, before flicking the dwindling bud of his cigarette into Hux’s drink. Hux looked positively ghastly with nerves.

“Well-“ I interrupted, “I must go to the powder room- I won’t take a moment.” 

They made sounds of acknowledgment as I slipped away off into the throng of people. Eventually, I made my way to the hall where the ladies room was. Much to my thanks, there was a discrete telephone there. I shuttered myself in the booth and picked up the receiver. 

“The Blue Room.” I spoke into the line. 

“Connecting.... here is the Blue Room.” Buzzed the operator.

I quickly pulled my handkerchief out and put over the receiver, and tried my best to relax. 

“Hello, this is the Blue Room. How may we be of service.” 

“Oh!” I said in a nasally high voice. “I’m afraid that made a mistake about my table arrangements for tomorrow’s eve- Do you have anyone whom I can speak to about this?”

“Yes, Madame. Do remember which of maitre d‘ made your engagement?”

“Oh yes! It was ah- ah oh what was his name- Phillip? Fillmore? Fionn? Oh I don’t know some F sounding name.” 

“Fionn isn’t here tonight. May I have someone else help you- we don’t have many tables left to reserve but perhaps if you give me the name of your party-“

“Oh nevermind darling- we’ll just make do. Sorry for the bother!” 

The phony happiness in my voice choked me as I put the receiver down. Fionn was working tonight- He had let me in for Christ sake... In my gut I knew there was only one reason for why he wasn’t there. It was because he was here, in some back room, bleeding and broken. 

I stood in the booth listening to the sound of my own breath. Rage. Fear. Sorrow. Disgust. I wanted to cry but I couldn’t. I wanted to run, but I wouldn’t let myself. Busily, I retouched my face and hair. If Fionn was willing to sacrifice himself for Dameron and I- than I was going to be marvelous- play hard to get- do anything. At least I knew that they didn’t know who Fionn was working with. 

Before I left the booth I made one phone call, one to western union. 

“Stay at home~ RE” Was all the telegram said, but I knew it be enough for Dameron to get the message. 

Innocently, I returned to the bar. Hux had vanished but Killer was still there waiting for me. 

“It just you and me now kid.” He smiled taking my hand. “Shall we,” he gestured out that main room of the party. 

“If you insist.” I answered, with a small smile.

He holding me feverishly close, we waded out into the room. The jostling glamour of the crowd pushed up around my senses once again. The gossip-tinged smiles of the girls gleamed while they enfolded us in a flutter of joy, hurriedly pressing their cheeks to ours in greeting. Emotional embracing came from the men, all of them smelling of drink, money, and unsound dreams. It was heavy with laughter. It was a joy void of oxygen and full of smiles. It made me dizzy- sick. The gaiety somehow was nightmarish now.

He drew my hands into his and pulled me out onto the dance floor. The upbeat music faded away and the band changed tune and began playing a slower- softer lovely sound- and together we started drifting to the melody. It was the middle of the night now- I could feel it. 

“I was never one for dancing.” He said.

“Shame- your good at it.” 

He mouth made something resembling a smile. “Do you dance a lot?” He asked.

“No.”

“It’s a shame- your good too.” 

“We’re going be an odd sort of couple.” I said, my head craning sadly down onto his shoulder.

“How’s that.”

“Cause to be honest- I don’t think I could ever fall for you.” My eyelashes fluttered and the music ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we are finally into the meat of the story- phew- i hope you enjoyed <3


	9. Ruin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a wild author has appeared

He paused for a moment and looked at me intensely. The deep mix of sadness and attraction I had within me was cut clean through with anxiety. He could see my fear- smell it. 

“You're a good girl.” He said profoundly. 

“Am I?” I said. 

“How did you ever get here?” He asked. 

“It happens,” I whispered.

He drew me back into his embrace, as the music resumed again. 

“I suppose it does.” He replied as we swayed. I could tell that somewhere in his black heart he was guilty for what he had done and what he was going to do with me. But then again there would be no pleasure if guiltiness didn’t come along with it. 

“Is this the part where you tell me that you were alright once,” I said, into the crook of his neck. “That all of this is just a big misunderstanding that just happened.”

“I could if you want me to.” 

“It wouldn’t be the truth though,” I breathed. 

“No,” He admitted, sadly. “It wouldn’t.”

Loosely, I let my arms drape around him. He looked like he had been cut straight out of a movie screen, and I hated it so. 

After the song had finished, he led me off the dance floor and back to a wall of private curtained booths in the adjacent dining room. From between the cracks of the curtains came billows of opium tainted vapor- sweet and warm to the senses. A booth was quickly procured for us and we settled into the sumptuous arrangement of low-lying wrap around seating and beaded pillows. 

With a glimmer, he drew and buttoned the curtains closed and turned to look at me. Darkness surrounded us as the light of the party was blotted out by the thick fabric. Before I could react his kissed me. And then he kept on kissing me as if he could rub out the blues we were both feeling. He brought me into his lap, so I had one thigh on each side of him. He began to bury himself in my arms. In another minute we wouldn’t have to go anywhere to have sex.

“Tell me how did a girl like you get to be a girl like you?” He asked, heady and desperate.

“I don’t know. How does anyone become somebody?” 

“Do you think I’m somebody?” 

I laughed. “You ‘own this town’ I think that makes you somebody.”

“Somebody you could think was swell?” He pleaded.

I know I had been somewhat joking, but there was nothing funny about his soft, tired, and somewhat worried face pressing into me- for something- anything. Underneath that veneer of wryness and coldness, there was pain. He was alone- alone with a revolving door of mistresses and parties and cruelty. And he if stopped running- pushing- he would stop living. He would be crushed under the wheel- burnt from his own electric current. 

Running my hand through his hair, I sighed. “Listen I-“

“I know.” He hushed, “I heard what you said- loud and clear.” 

I gazed at him, questioning, begging him not to push me more. 

“I heard that you think you’re above all this,“ He finally said, his eyes glowing in the low light. “But you're here- and to make it worse- you’re with me. Say all you like, but deep down there is the awful truth.” He leaned in, “You don’t really care how I make a living- only how I make love.”

Ruin is one of the clearest emotions to ever be experienced. It’s a feeling and a taste, and it’s black and relentless. It comes down over your head and sways around you, and fills your chest deafening you. Like you just set the house on fire and now can do nothing but sit back and watch it burn. Looking into his eyes, I laid my hands against his chest and went a for a long time without speaking while my soul melted into his. I just accepted it. He was going to ruin me, and I would be damned if I didn’t ruin him as well. 

“So come on then you heal- Love me.” 

He needed no further encouragement. He took me, absorbed me in his embrace, and I suddenly was reminded of how physically strong he was, how well-formed. The great power in his advances and the sheer burning hunger was demanding and exciting. He pushed me down against the velvet cushions of the booth and braced his hands beside my face. It was a confusion of lace and buttons and slips as he unwrapped me and I him. Passionately he shoved me back farther until I was crowded against the wall and he turned me to face it. He thrust and I took it. And I took it again and again. It was fervent, obsessive work he made of me. I could feel my body began to glisten with sweat as we rocked. 

He pulled me down back against him and hung onto me, before twisting me around to face him once more. When I watched him from underneath my half-closed lids, he was so fantastically pleasing. He was concentrated, vibrant, and fixated. His silhouette glowed against the small ribbons of light that pierced hazily through the curtain's buttons. His arms were like stone, smooth stone, as they held me firmly. I began to shake with each stroke. He gasped, oh how he gasped. At first, he sounded gruff and dark, but then his sounds began to trail into sweetness, a lingering sweetness. 

I took another shove, and I shuddered. I fluttered all over, from my toes to the top of my head. The heartline that ran through my being had just been strummed. And he kept on strumming it- kissing and brushing and touching me. There was a fantastic wildness to it all, freedom to it, aching attention to detail to every movement. He thrust into me again and he was seized at the moment, tremoring. An appealing final sigh escaped from his mouth and I brought him into a kiss. 

We settled into a crystalline silence in each other’s embrace for a while. The fragrant scent of the opium clouds wound its way into our noses as soft waves of blushy bliss covered us. The ever persistent clamor and jazz outside made the quiet even more intimate, it was an intimacy that I knew I might never recover from. 

He fished around for his dress coat in the dark. Finding it, he dove into the pocket and pulled out his gold cigarette case. He took one, and like a gentleman, offered me one as well and we sat smoking together in our pocket of darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was a little short- but I'm trying to get back into the swing of it and just wanted to publish :) I hope it is still consistent and all that jazz. Merry Christmas


	10. The Homefront

It was morning by the time we finally left. The club looked even gaudier in the stark light of day, tin foil gold under the just cresting sun. I felt gaudier too. Sulking around at night was one thing, but walking out onto the vacant sunlit road all glitzy and disheveled was a unique experience. I felt like I was under God’s magnifying glass. Any second I could have been burned up like an insect from being underneath that focused beam. On the other hand, over the course of the night, I had sipped quite a lot- hard and soft. I shielded my eyes with my hand and tried not to flinch. 

Killer was no worse for wear. He wasn’t chipper, but then again I doubted if he ever was or ever had been chipper in his life. Instead, he was more unmoved and steady. He was a veteran. The after-sex vibrance was still tangible in his movements, however. He walked smooth and calm, with melody to the curb. 

“Where are we going to now?” I asked. 

He snapped his fingers and in well-oiled fashion his party filed into their black cars. 

“There is business of state to attend to,” He said opening up the car door. “As much as I would like to take you along, sometimes you can’t always have what you want. Understand?” 

I nodded. I assumed by putting it that way he thought to make it seem better than it was. But it didn’t. It was a dirty business. Nothing stately about that. 

I pulled the trail of my dress into the car and he shut the door behind me. He got into the car quickly and promptly turned the radio onto the local private police line. Clearly crackling through the radio a lady’s voice read the police reports. I don’t know how he had managed to tap into it. He must have stolen or bought a hot radio from a squad car, but no matter the case, all the comings and goings of the department were right there for his ears. No wonder why the Cartel was so elusive. 

“Where do you hail from.” He asked, pulling out a smoke. 

A clear note of panic went through me. I couldn’t go back to my flat now- not like this- not with him. I would lose my lease and what was worse, I would lose my cover. My real name would be in the book of tenants and that wretched woman that ran the place knew everything about everybody in the building. She would talk and talk without a single thought about the consequences and it would be the end. My mind raced.

“The Hotel Monteleone,” I said casually. 

“Here I was thinking you might have been hard up.” He laughed, “But you’re doing alright for being- well- relatively straight...” 

Everyone knew that the Monteleone was one of the best. It was towering and glamorous and frequently visited by the political scene. The Hotel Monteleone was nowhere near where I lived, but it happened to be where Rose lived by virtue of her sister being a big time traveling jazz singer. Rose would be home now and I knew how to get into her place, but I was by no means relaxed by this solution. The very fact that I was now putting her in danger to avoid- well certain danger- filled me with guilt and remorse. 

The police lady finished calling out the reports for the hour. He had mapped a general idea of where the cops would be and why. He then pulled the car into gear and flicked the radio to the morning music hour. 

“Alright, let make a move on.” He slapped the side of the car with his palm and made a swirling motion with his fingers out the window. He swerved his car out in front of the party and then tore off into the main street. We sped past the city, the tires kicking up dust on the sleepy streets. There was no one really about at that time of the morning other than delivery men and others like us, just coming home from the night’s revelry. 

I laid back in the seat, trying to calm myself, and watched him blow out steady, slow puffs while he drove like mad. His hat was tipped back and askew, as his dark thick hair was too messy to allow to sit cleanly atop his head. From the side, I could see that behind his dark driving glasses he was intently watching the road. He was focused- existing in the moment- and absolutely beautiful. A spark of vanity lit up in me, a strange undercurrent of pride, that at least right then- in that moment- he was mine. 

We pulled up to the place within a few minutes, and I became even more painfully aware of how wrong this could go. The valet boy opened my door and I got out and tried to act at home. Lord knows I had been here many times before to see Rose, but now that I knew I needed to act natural- I felt as nervous as a cat. 

“I’ll show you up,” Killer said popping out of the car. “Phaz!” He called. 

Within a flash the woman came out of her car to accompany us into the lobby, bringing two more of his goons with her. Altogether, we were as inconspicuous as snow in the summer. We strode through the lobby and piled like sardines into the elevator. I told the elevator operator what floor we wanted- it was the forth- and we went up. It was an uncomfortably silent ride. He was different with his men than he was with me I noticed. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t smile. All he did was smoke quietly and in a way that implied he could tear you up any way he felt like it. 

There would be no mercy for me in front of his gang. Of course, I didn’t think they would be much mercy for me no matter what the situation was. I was still very much a plaything- a fling of only a couple of days. For some reason Hux’s vile greasy face popped into my mind, mocking me. I ran my hand over the beads on my handbag, feeling each nub of stitching. No matter what pretty talk had transpired or passions, we were still very much strangers. No one lasted with him. 

The floor came and we filed out. Thankfully, his men spread out around the hall instead of breathing down my neck. He and I walked out in front until we arrived at the door- 425- I could tell he was mentally making a note of the number. 

“This is where I get off,” I said. Swallowing my fear, I reached up with my hand and, bless the saints, Rose still kept her spare key up there. If it hadn’t been there- well I didn’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t been there. 

“You shouldn’t do that.” He said pushing his glasses down so we could see each other eye to eye. “That’s the first place they look.” 

“They?”

“Yeah-” He said, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Men like me.” Bending down, he kissed my forehead coldly. “I’ll see you around.” 

“I won’t hold my breath.” I scoffed, making a brave show of it. 

He made a muted smirk, but only for a moment. He pushed his glasses back up and left the way he came with his entourage. I slipped the key in the lock and safely made it into her flat. I had made it through the night. The aching terrible stress of the whole thing sank in. How many more nights would be like this? This romantic and literal cat and mouse game would have to end someday. I laid against the door just breathing for a while, trying to blow off the steam forming in my mind. I heard the rustling of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. The night wasn’t over. I was still going to have to explain all of this to her. My tongue went dry in my mouth. I closed my eyes for a second to mentally prepare myself. 

When I opened them I was alarmed to see that Rose had appeared directly in front of me, with milk bottles in hand. Her mouth was open in mid-speech but then widened in surprise. I promptly deduced that she thought that I was going to be the milkman. I, of course, was not the milkman. There was a pause and then we both looked at each other up and down before saying anything. Rose took it all in in only a moment. One glance at me, pressed up against the door- dressed and smelling like a scandal was enough for her to have a pretty good idea. 

“You're in some deep trouble aren’t you.” 

“Is your lease still under your sister's name?” I asked, 

She shook her head in affirmation. 

“And your sister?” I asked, still painted against the doorframe. 

 

“She’s working a gig in Harlem,” Rose replied, still somewhat stunned. “She won’t be back for four months.” 

I finally took some steps into the room. “Can you do me a favor and hand in my resignation to the Chief today.”

“Resignation?” She echoed in shock. 

I ran my hand through my hair, shakily. “I’m afraid I’m in deep.” 

Rose face kind of fell. Her surprise turned into deep-felt concern. “I’ll make you a pot of coffee… and we can talk about this as much or as little as you like.” 

She took me by the hand and led me into the small eat-in kitchen area and sat me down. Her place was so nice and sweet. I felt just terrible for coming in like this and bringing in everything with me. Deep in thought, I looked through her window to the street below. Cars were just now starting to busily fill the street and life was getting on its way. I put my head into my hands, a swirling feeling swelling in my eyes. 

I heard the clink of the coffee being placed in front of me and I looked between my fingers at Rose. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. 

“Nonsense-” 

“I shouldn’t have come here.” I sighed, moving to pick up the cup. “It’s just- I couldn’t take him home.” 

Her eyes grew wide. “Him?”

I took a sip of the sweet and black java. I felt the story getting jumbled up in my mouth, sweating out my pores. “You know yesterday when I said that I knew this fellow and that he was engaged and... all of that.” I began. 

“Yes, of course.”

“You see,” I rubbed my glass, and looked out the window, unable to face her. “He’s not engaged to any old woman. He committed to his way of life, and his way of life will probably get him committed.” 

She stopped mid drink.“A gangster.” 

“Yes,” I admitted. 

A small gasp came from her lips. “Land sakes alive.”

“Now do you know why I’ve got quite the life at the station?” I said, my exasperation apparent. ”He and cops are, well, mixed company to put it bluntly.” 

She reached out to still my hands. I was trying to be terribly calm about it all, adult and distant, but I was very much shaken up. I didn’t know him at all. I was of no importance. Damerion and I hadn’t thought this through at all. 

“You’d think he’d follow up on you?” She asked, pulling me out of my spiral of thoughts. 

“I’m sure. He’s a smart guy, too smart.” 

“How’d you get involved in this?”

I took another sip of the coffee. “Damerion saw that we met.” 

She stood up from the table. “Damerion?” 

“Yes- we had- well he had this grand idea to get an in on their operations by having someone on the inside.” I looked up her in tiredness. “That person ended up being me. Damerion wanted to see if this guy was the real deal.” 

“Is he?” She asked gravely. 

“It doesn’t get any realer.” 

Rose began to pace the kitchen. “I can’t believe he put you up to that.” 

“He meant well.” 

“He went right against the orders of the chief and endangered you and himself!” She spat in unforeseen resentment. 

“I chose to do it.” I protested. 

She drew her hands across herself. “But he asked you. And he should have known better. He knew the risks. He’s a detective and he didn’t even plan it out where you would go and what you’d do if you found yourself in this situation.” 

My eyes grew teary, “I’m sorry.” 

She cooled off, realizing she was upsetting me and came back over to the table. “You haven’t done anything wrong. What you’re doing is courageous and damned gutsy. I’m just worried that’s all.” She moved closer, taking my hand. “I mean what if you hadn’t thought to come here.” 

She had an undeniable point. I was playing fast and loose. 

“You know what.” Her face alight with resolve. “I’m going to quit too.” 

“Oh, Rose!” I cried. 

“Don’t feel bad. It’s just a job. There are scads of jobs available for a typist. Besides now that you’re here what’s stopping them from following me too.” 

“I have some money.” I offered. “I can pay the rent here for probably the next six months at least.” 

“Your a doll- but don’t worry about. Paige has the place paid by wire every month from New York.” She leaned back and could see the mental wheels turning. “We are going to play it smart from now on. No more loose ends.” 

I made a noise of agreement. I could tell all the crime news and novels she read were filtering through her quick mind. 

“What you need is a gun.” She said coolly. 

“A gun,” I repeated. “That is a swimming start.” 

Rose and I spent the rest of the morning eating a leisurely breakfast and slowly figuring out the details of our defense: places we would meet, a knock for the door, safe public places to go to if there was trouble, and separate backstories for the both of us that would be airtight. Rose also went through the morning times and circled potential job openings for us. While we had been talking I decided that Killer was not going to dominate my life and hold me under his thumb. I was going to be independent and make a point of it. 

Of course, I told rose a whole myriad of reasons for why I needed to independent, but I didn’t tell her the one burning reason for why it had to be. I felt all last night that I was being sucked down into the abyss. It was practically impossible to resist him and his advances. I needed something to keep me afloat and above it all. I needed to keep sane. I could not lose myself in him, just like he had lost himself in his own bleak and sultry world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this chapter was a bit -er- a setting up and detail chapter- but I hope you still liked it <3 As always thanks for reading and commenting!


	11. Blue

During the day, the mind is awake and defending its walls, but as the eyelids lower, so do the defenses. In the mid-morning sun, I had slipped away on the living room chaise. I had fallen deep into one of those racing hearted nightmares that prey upon exhaustion. The unknown worries that had coiled themselves around my boughs slithered out. It was incoherent, as unable to be grasped as fog in one’s palm, bleeding through the cracks of my fingers. Around me, voices, so familiar to me spoke but were muffled by the deep oceans of forgotten memory. It was hushed on the island. Water silently flowed all around me. The glittering lagoon, the twisted willow trees, and the young girl reformed before me like the shards of a smashed pot coming back together. The emptiness of abandonment stretched out from her, snaking through the reeds of the bayou, and wound around my ankles. I began sinking… sinking… as she watched motionless, until I vanished into the belly of the swamp. 

I was shocked awake. The shrill noise of the local drama playing on the radio had pierced through my sleep. I was covered up to my neck in discarded newspapers and even more bedraggled than when I had come in. Early afternoon had set in on the city and tangerine light was filtering into the room. The noon hour had slipped away while I had slept. 

“You sleep like the dead you know that,” Rose said coming into the room. “I tried you to wake you up when the delivery man came round but you wouldn’t budge.” 

I propped myself in my seat. “The delivery man?” 

“Yeah, your certain dangerous someone is a fast operator.” 

I sat up straight, my attention grabbed. “What did he send?” 

“Enough to make the Queen of Saigon think twice.” 

I pushed the papers off of myself in haste. 

“They’re in the bedroom,” Rose mentioned as she went into the kitchen. 

Swiftly, I pushed back the double doors that went into the main suite. The bed was dripping with dresses, coats, and boxes of what I knew was probably jewelry. I noticed that there was yet another set of roses that had also been delivered. As I stepped closer I saw that there was a note attached to the bouquet. Impatient, I tore it off and flicked it open. 

“To my good girl,” It read in surprisingly good penmanship. It certainly wasn’t the hand of low-life. I recalled to mind Hux saying he was from real money. So, he was a real gentleman I thought, or well a gentleman in pedigree. I flipped over the card and saw that it was embossed with the initials B.B.S. 

My eyes lit up- a name. I rubbed the little card back and forth in my hand in a stupor. He had obviously not been pulled from his mother’s breast and splashed in the face with holy water and christened “Killer,” it was just I had never thought of him being anything else than that. 

“B…” I said under my breath. 

Bill? Bernard? Bruce? Baxter? 

I looked back at the gifts. A name meant an in on him and who he was- on who he used to be. I slid down on the floor next to the bed. I recalled how he touched me- how he smiled- how he begged. The warmth relit all across my skin. I had known nothing about him, other than he was terrible and that he wanted me terribly. But he was flesh and blood, sweat and scars- A person, who had a family, a past, and a childhood. There was so much more that I knew nothing about. 

Nothing…

The smoldering fingertips of my dream ghosted over my mind, filling my mind with smoke again. I knew almost as little about my past as I knew about his. I didn’t even know who I was- not really. All I knew was that I was born from nothing and I would probably be nothing… Unfortunately or rather revealingly, all of my young years had been marked with helplessness and confusion and the indifference of people. It was hard to shake, the feeling of being an object to be passed around. 

I glanced at all the stuff he had bought me. Beautiful things- just like he supposed me to be. Together, I and everything he had given made a full set, just like the porcelain dolls that come with outfits and a trunk. He wanted to make me into his little toy- to dress me how he wanted- to have me how he wanted. He’d want me and want me until he had kissed and loved everything out of me. An utterly resentful furry filled me. The words “good girl” stalely hung on the crest of my mind. 

“Rose,” I called, “Rose!”

“What?” She said from the other room. 

“I’m going out tonight,” I announced. 

Miffed footsteps immediately started to approach me. 

“What?” She exclaimed again, popping through the doors. 

“I’m getting rid of all this junk,” I said gesturing to the heap. “I’m not going to stand for it. If he thinks trinkets are going to sink me he has another thing coming. I’m not going to be bought, snuffed, or thrown away. No, I won’t stand it!” 

We both stood together glaring at the bed in mutual disdain. 

“I finished writing up our letter of resignation,” Rose said quietly. 

“You think they are going to wonder why we both quit?” 

She laughed, “I said we were going to New York.”

“New York?” I choked on my own disbelief. 

“Yes,” She said, purposefully in an overly dramatic voice. “I said that we had tired of the gruff workplace and that we were going to try our luck with my dear sister in show business and modeling.”

“That’s the most obvious lie I have ever heard.” 

“I doubt anyone will really care- when you consider your fellow said he was going to mow down anyone in his way it doesn’t sound like too crazy of a lie. After all, we are just two defenseless desk girls.” She adjusted her hair in a cuttingly sarcastic air. 

“You have a point.” I snickered.

“The only thing is Dameron. He won’t try to come looking for us and spoil things will he?” 

“I’ll send him a telegram to explain things.” I said, “He’s reckless but he’s not stupid.” 

“Alright. Then it’s decided. We quit today and you take care of Dameron and your-” She gestured at the expensive amassment, “Romeo?” 

I frowned and sat down at the dressing table. I aggressively combed out my hair and tucked it under one of Rose’s Cloche hat. She lent me a fresh pair of stockings and a sage green pleated tea gown. It was a bit scandalously short on me, as Rose was very continental and kept in pace with the shrinking hemlines of Europe. Standing it looked fine, but when I walked it rose to above my knees. When the bellboys arrived to help me bring down the packages, they gave me a couple of sneaky stares. I could feel myself blush, even though it seemed I should have been beyond that by then. It took several trips to get all of it downstairs and into a cab. 

“Going back to mothers?” The cabby joked, laughing at me as I crammed myself in with all the luggage.

“To the Blue Room.” I requested,

He whistled, high and quick. “Must be some mother you have.” 

The rickety cab sped fearlessly through the streets. By the time we got there, I was buried alive from the avalanche of packages that had fallen on me over the course of the bumpy ride. I stuck out my foot trying to get my footing and finally wrestled myself out. 

“Wait here,” I said to the cabby. 

“Anything you say, lady.” 

I smoothed out my dress to make it as long as possible and I crossed the sidewalk and I walked through the front doors for the first time. It was brilliant inside, even without the music and the tinsley crowds. The downstairs dancing hall was lavishly decorated royally in rich blue velvet booths and gold chandeliers. In the middle, there was a circular marble floor that gleamed white like bone china. 

As I crossed into the room, something caught the corner of my eye. Fion.

I stopped dead still. His face was unmarked, but posture bore the hints of severe pain. He leaned forward onto the maitre d’ podium, supporting himself with his arms, the playfulness extinguished in his eyes. 

“Hello, Madame.” He said, raising a finger to stop me. “I’m afraid we are closed.”

I hesitated a while, wondering if he meant to deter me from going any further into this mess. 

“I’m not here for the dance hall.” I said, “I’m here to visit someone in the club rooms.” 

“I’m afraid we are closed,” He said again, caution in his voice. “Please come again at another time, or make reservations by phone.” 

“I’m not a guest,” I replied, walking towards him. “I work here.” 

He looked at me critically. “I don’t know you.” 

I brought my hands together cooly, like a stranger. “Yes, well ring Madame Maz will you. She’ll tell you who I am.” 

He slowly picked up the line at the desk. “But what is your name- I cannot ring without a name?” 

“Ray.” 

He nodded and dialed, “I should let you know, she’s not expecting you.” 

“She’ll see me.” 

“If she wills it,” He replied before putting the receiver to his ear. “Hello, Madame, a Miss Ray here to see you. She is quite insistent.” 

A couple of seconds went by and he hung up the phone. 

“You may go up.” He gestured stiffly to the stairwell that came off the room. 

“Thank-you.” I walked forward and did not look back no matter how much I wanted to. After all, we did not know each other. Any expression of sentiment would undo everything, for certainly there were eyes everywhere here now. 

I went up the staircase that led to the clubrooms. It felt eerily silent there without the music flowing in the air. I didn’t like it. The hall seemed narrower than before. I looked at each door as I passed it. I noticed the small tears in the wallpaper, and how the floor creaked with each step I took. I wasn’t there to do anything that out of the ordinary- but yet- there was something not right here. If I was a cat my back would have been arching. 

I rounded the hall and came to the small landing in front of her door, and I knocked. The slat instantly slid open- and just as quickly closed. The door flung open before me and Maz dragged me in, closing the door behind me.

“Oh Ray how nice- how nice-” She said pushing me into her room. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon and so early in the day.” She was happy- almost too happy- to see me. 

“I am here on an errand.”

“Oh?” She offered me the sofa while sitting down at her dressing table to powder her face in a frantic way. 

“Is he in?” I asked, not sitting down.

She momentarily paused her powdering. “No, he isn’t.” Quickly, she resumed her grooming.

“Anyone around then- you know his crowd?” 

“Yes...” She said absently. 

“Who then?” I inquired further 

“He has some people in his room.” She said curtly, before turning to smile at me. “What’s wrong- why you here- in this- at this hour? Why do you need to see anyone?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, turning for the door. “I just wanted to know if there someone about. I’m sure his people will do fine.”

She put her brush down and rose up from her seat. All four and a half feet of her ruffled personage suddenly was in my face. Her eyes keenly bore into me. “No his people will not do fine-“ She sternly said. “They will do not fine until you tell me what this is about.” 

I took a step back, unsure. “He showered me with things- and I- I just want to give them back.” 

“Gave you things- Gave you things?” She huffed, laying back against the back of her dressing chair. “That is what is causing you to come here before two?”

“What is wrong with coming here so early?”

“You should not come here before three- unless he calls for you. For any other reason- never ever come here at that time looking for him.” She was grave, the nervous energy that had been around here dissipated into concern. 

“Why?” 

“You do not need to know why. While it is fine to see me at this time- but- it’s just- there are things that do not concern either of us that happen here. You are not to be seen and not to be heard if you come here without his invitation at this time- and that is as clear as I shall ever make it.” 

I pursed my lips, a series of questions alighting in my mind. 

“Now, please-” She said gesturing towards the chaise again, “Take a seat and see if we cannot sort out whatever your concerns are without involving them.”

I complied. I wanted to consider all the possible implications of what she had just told me, but I decided to push it out of my mind until later. I came here on a mission. “Well, it is just that I do not wish to be... ‘compensated’ for my time anymore.” She raised an eyebrow, and I blushed. “It’s not that I’m not grateful for all that he has done- or more like all that you have done for me. And I do want to thank-you very much Madame Maz for allowing me to have worked here and for having taken me in- but I’m not for sale anymore- if I ever really was.” 

“So quick you change your tune? You came here for money- remember?” She shook her head. “Dearie- Do you think that by giving back what you have been given, that you get back what you have given up?” She sighed long. “That’s not how it works, and never will be. Men are like the devil- once they get a foothold- they never ever really let go. You say you’re not for sale, but everyone is. True, maybe not for jewels and coats and fine things, but there are other things that can ransom a girl. Once he finds it- and if he is determined he will- you better be careful.”

“I am doing this for myself-” I urged, leaning forward in passion. “I don’t care what he thinks about it.” 

“Ah-” She laughed, “Yes, you can say that.”

“I am saying that.”

“Have it your way.” She turned back to her vanity mirror. “You don’t care what he thinks… But then again- why did you not give it back the first time.” I looked up, and she gave me a sly look. “You care very much-” She continued, “You care almost too much. It’s not safe to care like that. You leave with less than you came in with. It’s a tragedy that ruins too many. I suppose I expected too much from you too soon. Even if you have the fire, you are proud. I am proud too- proud enough to refuse love I that cannot feel, hold, and exchange for the rent. It is a different set of standards- not the lack of them- that stands between you and this business.” She sighed and looked at me on the mirror’s reflection. “I just hope you get tired of him before he gets tired of you.” 

“May I leave the things with you?” I said, not willing to unpack everything she had said- for I was worried that if I did that I would lose my resolve. 

“Yes- if you must.” She threw her hands up in dismay. “But bring them up the back way- it would not do for you to be wandering about.” 

I nodded, and as I got up and left the room I could feel myself slowly begin to shatter. I was doing this to make him understand who I was. I wasn’t in love with him. I didn’t care one bit about him. By doing this it would make him chase me harder- make him take me into his mind and heart instead of just his bed. I was taking a stand for myself. It was nothing personal. I would have done this no matter who had given me those gifts. 

I arrived back at the cab and the cabbie and I together loaded up my packages. Again, several trips were made back and forth from the car. After it was all done Maz’s room was filled to the brim. 

“Don’t worry,” Maz said with a gentle smile, “I won’t take anything. It will all go back to him.” 

“I never thought that you would-” 

“Yes, of course, you didn’t- but you should of.” Maz got up from her table and came over to me- with a somewhat sad and regretful look in her eyes- I could tell she was feeling a bit guilty for having chastised me so strongly early. “Just remember, someone in your position needs to think of everyone as a threat to you. That is the only way you survive long enough to get anywhere.” 

I gave a small smile of gratitude in response. 

“Here,” She reached for a small cameo box on her dressing table. “Before you leave, take this with you, as a forget me not.” 

“Thank-you Madame Maz, but I assure you I will most likely be back here and will not-” 

“It’s not to remember me. It is to remember what I have told you today. Put it on your own vanity- so every day when you are putting on your things and becoming lovely you look down and remember.” 

“I’m sorry you do not approve of my decision.” 

“Approve? Who am I to tell you what to do- I just want you to not make the same mistakes that so often befall us, women.” 

I flipped the little box over and tucked it into my little purse. 

“Thank-you,” I said, stopping at the door. 

“No need-” She responded, “But one other thing- do not open that box till your home. There are some small things in that I do not want you to lose.” 

“I will be careful, then.” 

“Good.” 

I left and went down the twisting back staircase again and through the kitchen, which was just now beginning to fill with cooks for the evening. As I left through the back door, I thought of Dameron and Fion and the naive hopes we had of just coming in and busting everything up. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why did he have to be so complicated? I drifted back along the alleyway and back out to the cabbie. 

“Back to the Hotel,” I said sliding into the back. 

“Sure thing,” He said turning on the radio to a loud station that blasting the afternoon dancing hour. “Say- were you paying the devil his dues back there or what? That was a whopper to give to anyone.”

“You can say that again,” I said, pulling out the box from my purse and staring at it long and hard. I wasn’t doing it for him. I didn’t care. I grappled with the box, before shoving it back into my purse, as I felt the sight of it begin to chip away at me. “Say, do you know where a girl can get a drink around here,” I said.

“Yeah-” He reached down and flipped open the glove compartment and produced a bottle of Rye. I would have been surprised by that only a week ago. 

“It’ll be extra-” He said, “But it’s a fair price- 10 cents.” 

I flipped a dime into the front seat and took a drink. How I dreaded the call I knew he would give me once he had found out what I had done- but I knew that I would wait- hovering over the phone- waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew- I don't know why this chapter was so long to write- but good news- slowing down means I know where everything is going- instead of the characters doing whatever they want for once! I hope you enjoyed- thanks for the comments and kudos as always.


	12. Sympathy for the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) This chapter is has a lot of reflection and, hopefully, some character growth!

I came back to an empty apartment. Rose had gone out while I was away. She left a note in the kitchen on the back of a napkin. It said that she was going around- looking at the listings we had circled. I still couldn’t help but feel a bit rotten dragging her into this- but starting out fresh did have a certain appeal- I hope she found a nice place for us. 

I tucked the note back where I found it. I was somewhat glad, actually, to have some time alone. I needed to decompress and not think about things for a while. I went into the bathroom and drew myself a bath and got undressed. I still smelled of last night- the smoke and the alcohol and his touch had permeated me with foreign scents. I got into the hot water of the bath and began to compulsively scrub away- as if I could wash away everything- my worries- my thoughts- my anxiety. 

I had the same nervous feeling that I had gotten right after I had hit him- like I had taken a baseball bat to a hornet's nest. I could feel myself perveriably wanting to run for the hills. I was feeling unsure- even of myself. What was I even doing? Was it worth it to show him that I am something more- that, perhaps, he could be something more- and not buy his way into this relationship.

“Relationship…” I sighed sinking deeper into the water. 

Was this what all this was about- we were emotionally involved… By giving back all of his stuff- had made us even more so? All I was supposed to do was to get in and out- but I was just going further and further in. I could feel myself thinking like a reformer too. If he just walked away then there be no need to have it come to blows. It could be okay. We could be okay. 

An uncomfortably attached lump rose in my throat. Sentimental sensations of what could be flickered through my mind and I entertained the thought of escape with him- as immaterial a future as it was- it was a beautiful one. 

I hastily returned to scrubbing, my skin turning pinky red from the sponge as I pushed it out of my mind. Once my skin couldn’t take it anymore I pulled the plug on the bath and let it drain out. Dripping and raw I climbed out and wrapped myself in a bathrobe. I gathered up my things, intent on hanging up the dress that Rose let me borrow, when I remembered the box the Maz had given me. I had forgotten- or rather purposely shove it out of my mind until then- as I had already felt emotional enough from her chastising me. 

I laid my stuff down on the bathroom counter and popped open my purse and fish it out. It was definitely a beautiful box- French maybe? I fiddled with the gold clasp on the front till it finally jiggled loose. I had expected a pair of earrings- even maybe a small perfume bottle- but instead, inside there was only a folded piece of paper. It was ripped on the side- like it came out of a ledger. Quickly, I set down the box and unfolded it. 

“I know who you are.” Read the first line.

I could feel my whole body suddenly burn up. Stricken- I read on.

“That is to say- I know you are not who you say you are. It did not take much- my dear- to put it together. You arrive- on Fion’s word- go directly to _his_ room-” 

His was underlined three times. 

“And then Fion is taken and accused of being disloyal? No, I know you are apart of something dangerous. Don’t worry though, I will not give you away. You are no one but a woman I saw on the street and decided to employ- understand. Fion never brought you to me. You have nothing to do with him. You should know- it has gotten strange around here recently. They have eyes everywhere- even in the walls now they listen for plots. Mr. S is a paranoid man. He controls everything. Everyone is afraid- even Killer- of him.”

I sank down on the bathroom floor. 

“I know that they are looking for more disloyal people. They are suspicious. As I write they are questioning the chefs and staff in the upper rooms.” 

That must have been why she was so eager to get me into her room and out of the hall. Also, must have been why she warned me from coming during the day ever again, lest I get wrapped up into something. 

“I am gravely worried for you.” The letter continued, “While you might have him in your corner for now- it is the others that will eat you alive. If you try to do anything here- you will surely die. They cannot hear us ever talk about this aloud- as I fear they have wiretaps and moles here. I just hope that this reaches you in good health and that I am able to give it to you before anything happens.

~Maz”

I reread the letter several times over, before setting it down. That was why she was both so nervous and yet so willing to see me- she wanted to warn me, to prevent me from doing something stupid. I felt cold despite just coming out of the hot bath. The thing that stood out to me, replayed in my mind, was that Killer was afraid. I knew that there was an order to mobs. I supposed fear was a part of that. But him- afraid. I just wondered why. 

Did Mr. S hold something over him? I knew that I didn’t know much about Killer... But I couldn’t shake the feeling that in some ways- hell in a lot of ways- he seemed like someone that had already lost everything. Somewhere, somehow, who he had been had been burned into a crisp along with the bridge that led to it. The fact that his past lingered in the far unknowable distance behind him, just further cemented this fact in my mind. What more could Mr. S take from him that would make him afraid? 

I decided to keep busy, so went about fixing my hair. I tried to not think about him, but it was still in the flat, so of course, I began thinking. The aura from his love still laid on me like a thick veil. I could feel it my muscles- in my toes. I hadn’t really taken the time to just feel it out while I was running around town- but now- once I started too... I couldn’t deny that it was good in the deep lush sense of the word. 

Strange feelings were all about. I was compassionate. The rye had done something to me, I told myself at first. It was the stress, the danger, the loneliness, possibly even just the need for someone- anyone's- love, that was making me feel this way. I looked despondently at myself as I brushed out my hair. I made a sour face as I admitted to myself. 

It was _him_ \- all him. 

I jumped out of my skin. There was a rapping at the door front door and it didn’t sound friendly. Cursing that Rose and I had not bought the gun we had planned to get yet. I went up to the door. Slowly, I opened it. Through the small gap that the door chain allowed I saw Hux’s pale face gleaming at me. It appeared that I had not been spared the inquisition. 

“Yes?” I said, looking right back at him. 

“I was in the neighborhood.” His smile glowed with an aggressive hollow friendliness. 

“Yes?” I said again, keeping my ground. 

“I thought I would make a call on you.” His grin widened like he was in on a joke I wasn’t. “Aren’t you going to let me in?” 

I stood glaring at him, silent. 

“I said,” He hissed, pulling a dark barrelled gun from his suit pocket, “Aren’t you going to let me in.”

“It seems like we have had this conversation before.” I replied, keeping contact with his eyes and not looking down at the gun, lest I lost my nerve, “You know what he would do to you.” I warned.

He laughed to himself briefly, before his face made a nasty grimace. “Phaz.” 

With a metal snap, the chain broke and I was pushed back into the room. Phaz emerged into the room from her hiding place behind the jam of the door. She was staring at me- with a disgusted grimace. Hux waltzed in right behind her. Flaming mad and absolute burning up with nerve, I regained my footing and settled back against the hall table. Stealthily, I grabbed the ashtray that was laying behind me and hid it behind my back. Some of Hux’s other men were still in the hall. They reached in a closed the front door, leaving just us three in the flat. If it came down to life and death- I would fight- but I decided to play it cool and see how it panned out. 

“Lovely place,” Hux said, tapping his fingers against his side, “Home sweet home and all that.” 

Phaz began to rummage about, opening boxes, flipping over pillows. I glanced back at Hux who was still brandishing his gun. 

“Oh,” He exclaimed in response to my expression, “I’m sorry, forgive my manners.” He put the gun back in his breast pocket. “I wouldn’t want you to think that I was anything less than diplomatic.” 

“He will be furious about this,” I threatened, curling the ashtray in my hand. 

“Are you sure?” Hux cut. 

“Why wouldn’t he.” 

“I don’t know.” He drifted closer to me, and gesturing around, “If all goes well, you shouldn’t have to worry about anything.” He smiled, “Where did you come from before you came to our fair city.” 

“Texas,” I answered vaguely. I had an idea of where he was going with this, and thanks to Maz, I wasn’t going to let him go there. He wasn’t going to corner me into confessing anything.

“Texas…” He sighed, “Yes, what were you doing in Texas.” 

“Living.” 

“No, really, I had supposed you were dead.” 

Phaz laughed, unpleasant and loud at his quip. If I had found her intolerable sour, she was even more disturbing happy. 

“What do you do to afford this place?”

“I’m a secretary.” 

His expression raised freshly, “What kind of secretary?”

Phaz had started going through the closets. Rummaging through the clothes. 

“What right do you have to be in here,” I spat. 

“Put simply, I don’t like you,” He said, brushing his suit off with his hand. “You’re arrogant, rude, and pushy. Do, you know who else is all those things?” 

“You?”

He made a face. “Cops- cops are like that.” 

I put my free hand on my hip and arched back my a bit. I was still in the dressing robe, practically naked by all societal standards, and I was going to abuse it for all it was worth.

“Do I look like a cop to you?” I said, purposely breathy.

Hux blinked. “Miss Rey, if that even is your name, how did you come into Madame Maz’s employment?”

“She saw me- and she offered.” 

“Why did take her up on it?” 

“I was bored.” I said, trying to keep calm.

He got even nearer to me as Phaz moved into the other room. The letter. It wouldn’t be long until she made her way into the bathroom. I needed to think of something and fast. I gripped onto the ashtray that was still behind me. I began to feel rash. 

“We checked with the desk- they say that this place belongs to a Miss Tico,” He pushed, “Is that you?” 

I adjusted my stance, “No.” 

“Well,” He exclaimed as if he had caught me. “Who exactly is Miss Tico and more importantly, who are you?”

I recalled to mind the story that Rose and I had dreamed up. “Miss Tico is just the person that owns this place- she’s renting it out to us- to keep it up while she’s living out of state.” 

His eyebrow furrowed, “Us?”

“I have a roommate.” 

He hummed to himself “That’s nice, but still- you haven’t told me who you are?” Finally, he stepped within striking range. If she found it I was dead. If I struck him I would most likely die too. I built myself up and took a deep breath. 

I lunged forward. With a crack, the crystal tray met with his brow. He was struck backwards in agony onto the floor. I crawled on top of him, clawing my way into his pockets and grabbing his gun. I just wrangled the gun into my hand when Phaz returned to the room. 

Her quiet gaze burned into me, unafraid but cautious. Hux made a muffled moan on the floor underneath me before going a bit limp. He was out of commission for now. Phaz briefly looked at the door. 

“Go ahead, call the two men outside,” I said, “I promise I won’t shoot you before they get here.”

She clenched her jaw, trying to decide if would really do it. She looked at the door again and froze stiff with alarm. Compelled by her expression, I turned to see that Killer had appeared in the doorway. He was standing tall and furious- on the edge of losing it. 

“Get out.” He said at her, his expression boiling

“But-” 

“Leave,” He roared, “And take him with you.”

Phaz nodded nervously. With much groans, Hux was cleaned off the floor and strung about her shoulders. Killer radiated- twitched with rage as they passed him. He followed them out the front door, shutting it behind him. That was when I heard a loud smack, preceded by a thump from out in the hall. I rushed to the door to see Killer standing over Phaz, who now too had a grievous injury on her face. 

“Shit,” He scoffed, massaging his slightly busted hand. 

Phaz stumbled upwards, and without hesitation, he punched her again like a ton of bricks and then proceeded to overwhelm her with more hits. I jumped back at the impacts. The low-level thugs that Hux and Phaz had brought, as well as Killer own party of men, just watched until she eventually fell back on one knee. They didn’t make a move to help her. A couple of the neighbors opened their doors in curiosity before quickly shutting them. They weren’t going to help either. 

“If I see you, or this bastard, again within 48 hours,” Killer said leaning down into her face, “You’re both dead. Nod so I know you heard me.”

In a stupor, she moved her head slowly up and down. Killer put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, before flicking his head towards the elevator. 

“Get them out.” 

Two men from the entourage scooped them up and took them down the hall. Sighing, he turned around. The outrage steamed off of him, as he walked back, looking down at the floor. He stopped in his tracks as he saw me watching from against the door frame. Hastily, he shoved his fists into his jacket pockets, like nothing had happened. He shoved past me into the room, shifty and uncomfortable. 

“I closed the door for a reason.” He whispered as he passed. 

My lips pursed. I closed the door and placed Hux’s gun in the end table. I then followed him as he wandered around the place. He was taking everything in. 

“It looks better, not like this,” I said, straightening the sofa and cleaning up the mess that Phaz had caused. 

His feet stilled in the middle of living room, right over the area where I had been standing when he came in. I could feel him simmering there, thinking about what had happened. 

“Do you want some coffee?” I offered, trying to defuse him. 

“Why not.” He said still distantly looking down. 

I went over and took him by the arm and led him into the kitchen. He sat down at the small table and began to quietly smoke just like how he had done before in the elevator. I made the coffee and got some shortnin bread from the cabinet and sat down in front of him. We sat and ate for a long while in silence while the light from the kitchen window turned into a dusky orange. The beams poured across the floor and across his eyes and hands. A moment of stillness in the warm light transpired. 

I took a deep drink of my coffee while observing him sit from across the table, distraught with what he had to do in front of me. And then out of the blue, it dawned on me. This was it. There was _nothing_ to go back to. That was why he feared Mr. S. He couldn’t go back who he had been even if he tried now. He was trapped in this world- just as I was- even if it was out of his own volition. Suddenly, I found myself harboring a lot of sympathy for the devil. 

“Why did you return my gifts?” He said, without warning. He made no move to disguise that he was hurt. Emotions were simply pouring off of him. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was cheap,” I said, hiding my head in my cup.

“Cheap…” He said, in exasperation, “Don’t you think you deserve nice things? Because I- I do.” He reached out tentatively and took my hand from my cup. Softly, he rubbed my fingers back and forth with his. 

“Thank-you,” I murmured, “For thinking that of me.” 

He smiled shyly, “I could think nothing else.” 

I reached over and honestly kissed him for the first time, letting myself experience everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo... Yes? No one roughs up his girl- or harasses her. Also, Hux and Phaz are pretty tight in the novels and all that so the idea of them running around and doing things without telling Kylo is totally in character. 
> 
> Sorry for the Hux and Phasma stans out there too. :P
> 
> Oh- if you didn't catch it Kylo came to her place because he went to the Blue Room to find all of his stuff returned- so yeah- he wasn't following Phaz and Hux or anything and it wasn't just a pure Ex Machina moment


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! So :)))) 
> 
> these two idiots have a date 
> 
> how will it go?

I pulled away slowly, gently cupping his face with my hands and he gazed down at me- steadfast and intent. 

“Do you want to go dinner?” He offered, “No clubs- No crowds- Just dinner- Just us.” 

_Just us._

I nodded, “I would like that. I have to get ready though- if you don’t mind waiting,”

“Take your time,” He replied, leaning back on the chair. “I won’t go anywhere.” 

I gave him a final smile and got up from the table. He watched me as I walked away. The emotions were very anxious and tender. Something was happening. You could taste it in the air. 

I went into the bedroom and shut the door. Straight away, I ducked into the adjoining bathroom where I had left Maz’s letter. It was still there to my relief, untouched on the bathroom counter. I rummaged through Rose’s room for a matchbox, which I found in her vanity drawer, and lit the note up. It dissipated into dust and fell into the sink. With a squeak, the faucet turned on and the remains of the letter swirled down the drain. 

Quickly, I wrote a note of my own, explaining all of this to Rose so that she wouldn’t be upset by coming back and seeing the place trashed and me nowhere to be found. I then went about getting dressed and again found that most of her dresses were of course not fitted to me- but I did manage to find a powder blue dinner dress that I suspect was floor length on her- but fit just fine at the mid-calf. 

While I powdering up in the mirror, in the background of my vision I saw his bouquet of flowers, still sitting on the end table. The blooms were a rich satin red against the creamy swirls of the wallpaper. The flowers were the one thing that I hadn’t given back. The note was still laying next to it. 

“B.B.S,” I whispered. _“B.B.S.”_

Fastening my earrings back on from last night, I got up from the table and walked over to the roses and pulled one from the bunch. Breaking the stem off, leaving only behind the blossom and a small bit of green, I went back into the kitchen. I found him waiting, sitting exactly like how I had left him, his eyes on the doorway in anticipation of my return. 

“Come here,” I beckoned with my finger. 

He pushed the out chair and wandered over to me. It was somewhat alarming how gentle the mood was- but tensions were still very high. Like being on the beach and seeing the ocean pull out to sea, you knew a vast wave was coming eventually for you. It was an electric silence. My hands hesitated a bit like I was unfamiliar. Carefully, I reached up and threaded the rose through his lapel. The red was smart against the black material of his suit jacket. He smiled down at me in quiet approval. 

“You like Ettoufee?” He asked, “I know a place that does it well.” 

“Sure, who doesn’t love it?”

“Fine,” He said, putting his hat back on. “Let’s go have ourselves a date.” 

He put his arm over me and we walked out of the disheveled apartment together. His men kind of looked at me as we passed them. It wasn’t judgment, but there was look. I wasn’t sure if I wanted or even liked it, it was just _there._

Spirits were rising when went down to the car. He was excited to drive- to leave the nasty tones behind us. I agreed with him. It was time to go and feel out whatever this was. We hit the road, and to my surprise, he didn’t speed. Instead, we kind of cruised through the streets casually. His entourage hung back a bit- far enough behind that, we had some room to breathe. The town was getting ready for night time. People were heading home or heading out and some of the stores were packing up. We eventually, somewhere on the east side of the quarter, we roved up to a place that was just changing out for dinner, setting out the porch seating. 

It was a mom and pop, with red curtains and a lively front of gold trim and blue siding. In curling letters painted on the front door, it read, _“Dex’s Diner.”_ It wasn’t at all what I expecting. I guess I had gotten used to the idea that everywhere he went was fabulous, gaudy, and loud. It was exactly what he had said it was, a no clubs- no crowds- just dinner kind of a place. 

He helped me out of the car- there was a large dip in the sidewalk next to my door since the car was parked right up to the stoop of the old square building. His men tried to follow us in, but he gave them a side glance. A bit reluctantly, they resigned themselves to finding a place to lurk around in the front of the establishment- far enough away where they wouldn’t crowd us. 

The waitress was a skinny thing. The chef, however, from what I could see through to the kitchen, was not. The place was full of people, but not of din. It looked more like a family place, as there was an ice cream bar and a glass case of confectionaries. Everything about it promised that a good meal was in store for us.

“Table for two?” The waitress asked. 

_Table for two._ That sounded lovely, I thought. He gave a smile of confirmation. 

The table we were brought to was small- but it was a nice small. It was situated on the second story balcony, away from the main family restaurant. Several other couples were already populating the deck, giving it an intimate atmosphere. This area was clearly reserved for the romantics. Since it was almost the evening now, the soft oil lanterns on the tables gave off a golden glow against the dimming outside light. Far off the noise of a corner street band flowed up to us. 

He seemed a bit sheepish as we sat down together, trying very hard to be confident yet slightly faltering. His body language was cordial, pleasant, normal; however, all of that politeness was pulling him against the grain. _Was this an apology?_ I wondered, for what had happened, for the violence that he had committed for me and in front of me. He wanted this to cozy dinner to go over well- to smooth things over- it was apparent. He was going to be a civilian even if he was out of practice. A somewhat fumbled order for the Ettoufee was made, and the waitress left us alone with each other. 

He folded out his napkin several times. “Do you like it here?” 

“Yes, seems real nice, real homie.” 

I could tell that made him relieved. 

“Yeah,” He said. “I used to come here a lot.” 

“Why did you stop?”

“It was a place I used to come to when I was a kid with my old man- you know in the downstairs part with the cold case and treats. It’s not the same- really- anymore- you know?” He started to try to explain further what that meant but decided hastily to move on, like there was something messy about the topic. “Do you have any places around that you like- that are- you know special?”

_Special?_ This place was special to him. _Was he really was serious about taking me out on the level? Like the plebeians?_

“No-I don't have anywhere," I sighed, "Haven’t been around here long enough to really find anything like that. I mean, I have been around to the big places, the places where everyone goes, but I haven’t found the place.” 

“Oh?” His leaned forward in interest. “I thought that you knew the city.”

“I guess I just sort of live here,” I admitted. 

“Why here then-” He inquired, “I mean- assume you came from somewhere else to here.”

I nodded. “It was the closest big city- and I wasn’t too particular.”

“You just wanted to get out? To leave?” His voice implied that he that he too had been subject to such feelings, perhaps, at irresistibly strong levels. My expression peaked. Was this a sentiment that he had felt in the past, or was this one that he was feeling now too. 

“Yes,” I confirmed. "I wanted to leave." 

He nodded in understand.

“Haven’t you been all over Europe- or something?” I asked, casually. 

There was a pause. He looked away, down off the balcony to the street. He was recalling something- a lot of something. It was taking him too long to respond for him not to be. He shifted in his seat, his eyes still scanning the traffic. 

“Yes,” He conceded, “I have been…” 

"What was it like?" 

He stirred again, this time shifting his gaze to the lamp on the table. “Unfortunate." 

"How so?" I wondered.

"Well," His eyes returned back to me. "When you hang out with the same people, everywhere is the same, no matter how different the scene is. Americanitis- that’s what they call it isn’t it- the indifference of our land? But what they don't tell you is that it's the people, not the place, that's wrong. Traveling to Europe doesn't do a damn thing, because Europe is filled with Americans- and they are the creme of the messed up crop. Rich people with problems. There is nothing worse- the indifference nowhere more amazing- than were a group of them decide to roost for the winter season.” 

There was a perceptible uncomfortableness in his tone as if he was twisting away from the fact that _he_ too was rich and had problems. 

“To add to it,” He continued, “Americans are the only ones that know English over there except for the English- who are just as bad- if not arguably worse in regards to indifference. No one does anything over there except the crowd that writes, feels depressed, and then writes about feeling depressed. It’s a prison.” 

“Is that why you were racing-” I said, “or were you in Europe because you were racing?”

He leaned back, somewhat curling into himself. “I raced because I hated being marooned out there.” He said.

The dejection at this topic had unintentionally brought up in him was tangible. Bitterness was the overwhelming feeling. _Boring._ That was what he had said about racing. _Marooned._ That was something stronger, and lord knows, I knew its strength. 

“Why didn’t you just come back to the states?”

“At the time it was against the better interests of higher powers for me to be around stateside. It was much better for me to be away- having fun…” Once more, he stopped himself, his original abashed tenseness flooding back in. He had found himself washed up on the rocky shore about to say more than he bargained for. 

“Apologies, I’m not very good at dinner conversation. I never was.” He said.

“No- No-” I implored him, “I’m enjoying it. You’ve done things and been places that I have only read about. Anything you have to say about them is news- is interesting.”

He turned a bit flushed. “You read?”

“Sometimes, I like the columns and when I have the time I like to read novels. There are so many new writers out nowadays though, it’s hard to keep up. I do like Dashiell Hammett- his writing is sensational.” I tried to keep my tone engaging to support him in his obvious attempt to avoid saying anything more about Europe. “Do you read?” I asked.

“Sometimes.” He repeated back to me vacantly. His mind was getting stuck inside itself. It showed. The mundaneness of the topic at hand was abrasive, as there was so much more to be said- maybe even confessed- to each other. Even though it was clear that he wanted us to be the type to small talk casually with one another- it just wasn’t the case. Too much had happened for it to be simply blown under the rug with pleasantries. 

He looked at me, and the tenseness- the urgency- resurfaced in the room. 

“I’m sorry.” He finally whispered.

“Don’t be- I’m having a wonderful time-”

“No,” He corrected, “I’m sorry for what happened.” 

The air got thick with guilt. The unspoken pleas he had been sending me all night were bubbling up. 

“You helped me.” I insisted. 

He grimaced. “They wouldn’t have been so rough with you if I hadn’t taken you around as I had. If I had kept you away from it-” He expression furrowed with regret and shame at himself.

“You just wanted to take me out.” 

“No- no- this is going out-” He gestured around, insistent. “Having a nice time in a nice place with nice people. I knew you were different, but I treated you the same. A habit- a bad habit- that’s what it was… I meant it when I said that I thought you deserve to have nice things- cause you definitely didn’t deserve what I brought on you. You should be given nothing but the best- not that.” 

I could feel him grappling with the idea that maybe _he_ was not the best. That’s why we were going out like this. He was trying to be his best and still was unsure if that was enough. He cared about what I thought of him as much as I had cared about what he thought of me. Honesty- a dangerous emotion- was whirling around loose. 

“I had a good time with you,” I reassured.

“Yes, everyone has a good time.” He sighed, “It’s the time that comes after that’s always the problem.” His face soured once more, “I know Hux. He’s a sore sport. I knew it and I brought you there anyway. What makes it worse is that even though I knew he would get riled, I’m mad about it, like I hadn’t seen it from a mile off. And then all this happens.” 

“None of that happened because of you. It was because of them- and whatever has them so trigger happy.” I tried sooth him. I couldn’t help but feel a little guilt of my own in all of this. After all, I was what Hux thought I was, a cop. 

He leaned close to me, as if proximity would make him more easily understood. “Hux would like nothing better than to find a reason get rid of you just because I like you. He’s insane like that- bitter. I used to think it was funny, how mad he’d get about me jerking him around. I liked provoking him because he couldn’t stand me. It was a good way to kill time. But he could have shot you just for the hell of it- and then set the scene for why you deserved to be shot. It’s a good thing he’s so blood-shy and pompous. But I guess that’s why Phaz was there, to do what he couldn’t after he had his fun. He loves going around roughing up people, making a speech, and then fleeing the scene.”

His anger and his frustration were poorly concealed, even though his words flowed slow and steady. He was right about them- they were probably there to kill me. The atmosphere was anything but relaxed. The notions of what almost happened rose noxiously in our faces. 

“I haven’t slept in long while.” He said as if that could blow over everything and move us forward, back to our nice evening. 

A small, rye thought popped into my mind. 

“I don’t think either one of us slept last night,” I said.

That was enough of a live wire of a line, to make him look me dead in the eye. It was strange to see how flustered he was about it as if he hadn’t been absolutely carnivorous in that booth. It was as if I was with that someone else now like all the chaos had cracked the mask he had been wearing. We finally were like two people together, instead of two projections passing through each other and never really touching. 

“If you don’t mind telling me-” I asked, reaching out on a limb. “What does the B.B.S stand for?”

He flustered a bit. “Uh- Benjamin-” He said, “You can call me Ben though- for short.”

“Ben…” I repeated, softly. He blinked, taken aback by the sound of his own name. 

“You know _they_ think I’m too awful to like you.” He murmured, “That I’m just hanging around for something new.”

“Are you?” I searched. “Are you just around because…” My words trailed off. 

He expression became laced with things we had yet to say. “I- I don’t think so.” He paused, “I just know I want to _stay._ Stay with you.” 

That was it- the wave that had been building just hit the shore. We were both submerged up to heads, looking at each other wondering what had just happened- what we had just abstractly confessed to. It was ludicrous- impossible- even though unsettling premonitions of this had been rocking me from the moment I first saw him. Attraction had given way to desire, and desire to attachment, and now- now we were in falling into the thick of it. The serious, vulnerable look he was wearing was not something I would forget. 

That was when the food came. Much noise was made about how delicious it was- ‘compliments to the chef’ and a lot of other gibberish- but it was only a shadow of a conversation. It was an empty sound, in the attempt to move on from what had just occurred. I think we were both a frightened, at how just how eclipsing the emotions we had just stumbled into were. It would have been unwise to continue right then- or we might have ended up married and in a honeymoon hotel before nine- and I think we both knew it. This was to be consumed and appreciated in moderation for now- least we got too high or too lost. Soon or later- after enough blundering on both of our parts- the conversation righted itself and the dinner was enjoyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)) yes, kylo is an awkward poorly adjusted jelly bean- but I wouldn't want him any other way. 
> 
> Also, I'm soooo glad that we are steadily progressing more into his background and eventually going to get at why he is doing what he's doing and why Solo is the chief---- (and some other mysteries lmao) ----- 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed- I love you readers <3


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